


All That Yields

by mandysimo13



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Adventure, Alternate Universe - Kushiel's Legacy Fusion, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Bondage, Childhood Friendship, Courtesans, Don't worry, Evil Plotting, First Love, First Time, Graphic Description, Graphic Violence, Hand Jobs, Kissing, Lots of kissing, M/M, Magic, Mild torture, Oral Sex, Prostitution, Sex, Some Humor, Underage Drinking, Underage Sex, WIP, arthur lives, merlin lives, mists of avalon references, they age up
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-07
Updated: 2016-12-28
Packaged: 2018-04-03 09:26:30
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 18
Words: 60,471
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4095706
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mandysimo13/pseuds/mandysimo13
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This series is based off of Jacqueline Carey's "Kushiel's Legacy" series. Merlin is the only anguisette the world has known in generations. For that he is rare, special, and unlucky. After the death of his mother, Hunith, Gaius claims him as his own. Through the years he grows into a worthy courtesan, sought after for his exquisite ability to withstand, and even crave, pain. Love finds him young in the form of Arthur Pendragon, royal heir to the throne of Camelot. But fate has plans for them and life is not all assignations and evenings spent in a lover's arms. Morgause has an plan to take over Camelot and it's up to Merlin to save all of Camelot, and Arthur, before it's too late.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I'm borrowing very heavily from the Kushiel universe as well as the Mists of Avalon (personally, my favorite Arthur legend series) series. Some characters from both series end up here in some form or another. I take a lot of creative license with a lot of the content so hopefully you all enjoy it!

Merlin’s first memory wasn’t happy or sad, traumatic or joyous. It simply was.

He was four when he realized for certain that a peculiar trait in his eye, a blood red speck, a mote nestled in his left eye, set him apart from the other children and adults in his village. Children often have traits that, given time, would change and settle. One child’s fair blonde hair might turn to brown or a set of crystal blue eyes might darken to green. But the village, one by one, began to take note that Merlin’s stubborn trait had just as stubbornly taken root. The red mote was there to stay.

For this, and this alone, he was branded unlucky.

Perhaps the villagers had some sort of sixth sense of just how unlucky he would become. As it happened that shortly after Merlin’s first memory stored itself clearly in his mind the second one followed; this one of a sadder turn.

Halfway through Merlin’s fourth summer his mother began to notice signs of sickness in herself. Fatigue, yellowing of the skin, shortness of breath. By the time she had developed a lack of appetite, she knew that no amount of doctoring would save her. She knew enough to know a wasting illness when she saw it. She composed a letter for a dear friend in Camelot to come to see her at once. Not much time remained for her and she had an important favor to ask.

It took two weeks for the letter to arrive and for her friend, Gaius, to make the journey to Hunith’s village, Ealdor. By the time he came trudging up the lane to her home she was bedridden. Out of neighborly compassion, one of the old crones, widowed and ailing herself, had taken it upon herself to care for Hunith while the crone’s daughter watched over Merlin and kept him from succumbing to his mother’s fate.

Merlin spotted the newcomer and followed him, in the shy and hide-and-seeky way that children do with strangers, all the way to his home. He knew that he shouldn’t have been there. His mother was sick and the woman watching over him would be angry at his disappearance. But he was strong willed and determined to see who would be a guest in his home.

He watched from behind the flower patch as the stranger rapped at the door and was let in by the crone. Once the coast was clear he tiptoed to the open window and peered in to listened.

“Gaius,” Hunith greeted in a raspy voice.

“Hunith.” Gaius took the frail woman’s hand in his own two and kissed them and sat by her side on the bed. “I’m so sorry I couldn’t make it sooner.”

“Being here sooner would not make this any easier.” Hunith sucked in a shallow, dry breath and swallowed. She turned her head in a wordless plea for water that was swiftly answered by the crone. After swallowing a couple of tiny sips of water she refocused her attention to Gaius. “I have a great favor to ask of you.”

“So you said. How can I help ease your passing, Hunith?”

“My son, Merlin,” Hunith whispered, her son’s name stuck thickly in her throat, tears springing to her eyes. “I need you take him.”

“Where is Balinor? I thought he was safe here?” Hunith shook her head. “Uther’s men came through shortly after Merlin was conceived, ransacking and dragging people off. He made it out just in time. He hasn’t been back since.” She closed her eyes. “He doesn’t know Merlin exists.”

Gaius nodded sadly, running a thumb over Hunith’s hand, the skin like thin paper. “What is to be done with the boy?”

She motioned for Gaius to come close so she could whisper. “He has the gift.” She laughed weakly. “Or curse, depending on where and when you’re talking about.”

“He has magic,” he gasped.

Nodding, she continued, Gaius reseating himself fully upright. “And a red freckle in his eye. Blood red. The villagers are scared of it. They say it’s bad luck. It’s all I could do to get someone to take him for me so that he might not waste away like me.” Her face contorted in pain and she sucked in a sharp breath. “I know it will not be much longer and the people of Ealdor will not care for him like I know you would, Gaius.” Tears spilled over her eyes, “Please. Keep him safe?”

Gaius nodded, a single tear slipping free in grieving for his old friend. “Of course, my dear. I’ll care for him as if he were my own. And do you know what?” Hunith shook her head and he smiled, happy that he could give her some small comfort. “He’ll even have a kind of foster sister. I have a fosterling already back home in Camelot. A girl not much older than your Merlin. Freya.” He leaned in close and whispered so only she could hear. “And she too has the gift.”

“Oh,” Hunith gasped, her little breath speaking so much more than she was capable; relief, joy, sorrow and all the rest that one feels so close to death.

Gaius touched her brow, “He will be well cared for. Fear not. Where is he?”

“Lurking where he shouldn’t.” She nodded towards the window and that’s when Gaius and Merlin got their first look at each other.

“Mother,” Merlin whined, “How did you know I was here?”

“Because I’m your mother. I know everything.” She smiled fondly, “Now, be a dear and show Gaius your lovely flowers, hmm? Then maybe we can have dinner?” Hunith turned to the crone who had begun preparing a kettle for tea. “Dear, could you perhaps set out some bread and cheese? Some fruit?”

The crone nodded her assent and bent to the task. Secure that matters were in hand, she urged Gaius to go to her son. “Prepare him? He’s so young I fear he will not-”

“Worry not, old friend. We’ll get on just fine.”

With that Gaius nodded his head to the crone and made his way out the front door. Merlin was waiting on the stoop, shifting his feet awkwardly.

“Who are you,” the boy asked.

“I am Gaius. An old friend of your mother’s. And you must be young Merlin.” Merlin nodded in agreement and Gaius smiled at the child, motioning to the flower bed. “Your mother tells me that you like to help the flowers grow.”

Merlin nodded emphatically and grabbed Gaius’s hand to tug him fast to his flowers. “Mother says that flowers can heal all sorts! Says that they can help when sometimes even the best medicine cannot.” He fingered a sprig of lavender and bit his lip. “Is that true?”

“Well Merlin,” Gaius crouched, leveling himself with the child. “That depends on what you’re looking to heal. Chrysanthemums, like this one here,” Gaius fingered it’s petel for emphasis, “can help cure a fever or headache. Honeysuckle in some tea with honey can help a sore throat. And roses,” he plucked a pink one, it’s petals not yet unfurled, and handed it to the boy. “Roses can do much. They can help relieve depression.”

Merlin took the flower and sniffed it appreciatively. He made a face of determination and all of sudden his eyes glowed gold and the petals of the rose began to unfold and bloom. The smile of achievement was so pure that Gaius’s voice had left him entirely. Seeing the confirming spark of magic in his eyes was already a shock. The added knowledge that there, indeed, lay a tiny mote of crimson in the boy’s eyes made his heart ache. He was the first in many years to have this particular alignment. The boy’s fate had been decided by Kushiel at the moment of his birth and Gaius only knew one thing for certain; It was good that he had come. Merlin would need his help as he grew and his attributes became more pronounced.

Merlin lifted his head, then, and looked at Gaius openly, his face full of questions. Gaius sighed and began his difficult task. “You know what’s about to happen don’t you?”

Merlin’s tiny face crumbled a little, eyes becoming watery. “Mother is going to die, isn’t she?”

“Yes she is.”

“But won’t the flowers help her?” Merlin’s voice was pleading as he threw the rose to the ground. “She said that flowers could help!”

“I’m sad to say that in this case,” Gaius stated, picking up the semi-crushed flower, “roses can only help her relieve her troubled mind, not ease the ails of her body. No physician can help her,” he added sadly, talking to the rose, “Not even me.”

Merlin’s sniffling brought his face back to the boy. Tear slipped slowly down his cheeks. “What’s going to happen to me?” Merlin bit his lip and rubbed his eyes. “They say I’m unlucky. No one here likes me.”

“Well, I’d say they’re wrong.” Gaius collected the boy in his arms, hugging him fiercely to his chest. “You’re very lucky and do you know why?” Merlin shook his head. “Because your mother has a great friend in me. And I will care for you as if you were my own.” He pressed his cheek against the downy softness of Merlin’s hair. “You will never go unloved in my home, Merlin.”

The two stayed like that, embracing and crying silently, until Gaius’s legs began to cramp. Rather than letting go Gaius gingerly rose, boy in arm, and rocked him steadily, waiting for the first of many tides of grief to subside.

When at last, Merlin had no more tears left Gaius set him gently on the ground and bid him to join him and his mother for a meal.

That evening passed by like a dream to Merlin. Hunith seemed to brighten, if only for an evening, secure in the knowledge that her precious son would be well cared for. Nearing midnight Merlin snuck out to the garden for his last attempt to make his mother smile. Gaius had said roses might make her happy and Merlin so wanted his mother to be well and happy.

While Merlin dallied in the garden Gaius took the opportunity to tell Hunith what he confirmed about her son.

“His gift of magic is truly wonderful, Hunith. You’ve raised him gently and he shows it with the flowers. He bloomed a rose for me today.” He smiled at the young memory. “I’m sure he will use it for the side of good, especially with me as his guardian.”

“I can’t tell you how happy that makes me, Gaius.” When he frowned, ever so slightly, Hunith’s forehead creased in concern. “There’s something else, though. Isn’t there?”

“He’s an _anguisette_ , Hunith.”

Her eyes went wide. “Are you sure?”

“The mark is very clear. I’m surprised you didn’t realize it yourself.”

She shook her head at the seemingly impossibility. “But...but the dragons. How could-”

“The last one remains.” At her little gasp of shock he continued. “There is still work to be done in honor of the dragons, it seems.”

“Gods preserve him.” She fixed Gaius with the most menacing stare she could manage given her condition. “You make sure that no serious harm comes to him. As much as you can manage, do you hear me!” She started coughing, the strain and fire she put into her voice becoming too much in her weakened state. Gaius handed her a glass of water to ease her fit.

“Shh...I’ll do my very best. I promise you.”

Merlin had taken his time in the garden. Gathering only what he thought were the best of his roses. He added sprigs of lavender and honeysuckle as well, hoping the riot of color would bring her joy. Flowers in hand behind his back, Merlin slipped back into the house just as Hunith had finished her coughing fit.

Hunith, tired eyes shining, smiled at him with warmth. “Merlin my sweetling, where have you been?”

Merlin tiptoed across the room as if his steps could make or break his mother. “You always said that flowers could help healing better than any medicine.” He looked to Gaius, then continued, “But Gaius said that now flowers can only make you smile. They can’t make you better.”

“Oh sweetling,” Hunith patted the bed next to her. “Come here, my love.”

Merlin crossed to the side of her bed and presented the flowers to his mother. “Will these help make you smile, mother?” Tears shone in Hunith’s eyes and she nodded, cupping the nearest rose to smell. “Yes, my love. They make me smile. More so because they’re from you, Merlin.” She took the bouquet from her son and reached for his face. Holding his cheeks between her palms, she stared at her most precious lot in life. “I am so sorry, Merlin, that I cannot be with you for longer.” She choked on her tears, “You know that I love you, right? So very, very much.”

Merlin choked out a yes and rushed to hug his mother. Gaius watched them both, hugging and crying, tears soaking each other’s skin. After what seemed like ages and yet not long enough, Hunith pulled Merlin from her neck and bid him to go to bed. Time enough for goodbyes in the morning, she had said. Ever obedient to his mother Merlin nodded once and kissed his mother’s cheek and went to find his cot.

As it happened, there would be no more goodbyes.

Hunith passed away in her sleep. They found her in the morning, a rose pressed over her heart.

 

~*~

 

After the death of Hunith it took three days for Gaius and Merlin, and the rest of the village, to prepare the good woman for burial and to make way for their long journey to Camelot.

Merlin championed the passing of his mother with as much dignity as a four year old could manage: crying little, remaining quiet for the most part, and spending much time alone with his flowers. Gaius let him be, knowing that he would not have much longer to spend in his first home.

They laid Hunith to rest in the village cemetery underneath an oak tree. The turnout for the woman was small but sincere; few friends who had loved her well and wished her unlucky son the best. When all the rest had gone it was Gaius and Merlin who stayed for a final goodbye. Merlin had picked the last of his roses, ones he had lovingly brought to bloom only just that morning, and laid them over the upturned earth. There were no more words to be said. They had said them all.

The next morning at dawn Gaius roused his new charge and helped him make ready for the trek across the land towards Camelot. On single a horseback, for Merlin was still small enough to share a saddle, they broke their fast on hard cheese and apples as the rode.

As they traveled Gaius pointed out various landmarks and some interesting plants. They played a game where they tried to guess the various sounds of the forest; deer, rabbit, squirrel, hawk. As the sun drifted past midday Merlin drifted into a nap, burrowing into Gaius’s chest and clutching his robes. Gaius had never had any children of his own blood but fate had seen fit to thrust two little orphans upon him and they tugged at his heartstrings. One hand on the reins and one hand stroking the boy’s head, Gaius vowed to himself that he would do his best to protect these children as best he could.

He had not told Hunith everything. The reason he had taken Freya in. The reason that would have made Hunith think twice and worry even more about the fate of her son. The new path that Merlin’s life was to take. He couldn’t take the peaceful solace his friend had found in the end.

Time would tell him if he were right in the end or not.


	2. Chapter 2

By the end of the week long trip to Camelot Merlin had put aside a small part of his sorrow and had gained a real interest in the new life ahead of him. He showed delight in each new piece of scenery with the enthusiasm that only the young can possess.

While they were still a day out of Camelot Gaius decided it was time to explain to Merlin the nature of his new home.

Gaining the boy’s attention by tapping the top of his head so it would swivel around to face him Gaius began his explanation.

“There are a couple of important things for you to know before we reach the gates of the kingdom.”

“What’s that, Gaius?”

“Well, first off, I need to tell you that King Uther Pendragon has expressly outlawed magic. It is death to perform it within the walls of the kingdom.”

Merlin let loose a tiny gasp. “But why? I would never hurt anyone with magic!”

Gaius smiled at the obvious observation. “I know you wouldn’t, dear boy. But there are others who would. Way before you were born there were many people who used magic for horrible, cruel purposes. It is against those people that Uther decrees his magic ban.” He whispered, unnecessary since they were alone in that part of the forest, “Can you keep a secret?” The boy nodded and Gaius told him, “I also have the gift.”

“You do!”

“Yes, my boy. It’s why your mother asked me to take you. I’ll help you hone your skills while keeping them secret. Sometimes magic gets the best of you and controlling it can become difficult. Especially with your-”

Gaius stopped himself. He couldn’t tell Merlin his being an _anguisette_. Not yet. He would not understand all that comes with the burden of such knowledge.

“My what,” The boy implored.

Recovering from his verbal stumble Gaius answered, “Especially with your need to soothe others.” The boy’s great desire to help his mother in any way foreshadowed a deep need to take care of others. _Yes_ , Gaius thought, _keeping that secret will be difficult indeed._

When they finally gained the gates of the city proper Merlin struggled to take in everything at once.

Smells of street food and horses, sounds of children playing and merchants plying their wares, the feel of the sun beating on his face all made Merlin’s head spin.

“It’s so big,” he marveled to Gaius. “How does anyone find their way around?”

Gaius chuckled and directed their horse towards the palace. “You’ll learn soon enough. Just watch, in a year or so you’ll be able to navigate these streets blind and alone.” He caught Merlin’s eyes in all seriousness, “But you won’t though. No wandering off alone for a long, long time. It is, indeed, a big place. Your mother’s ghost would chase me from here to the ends of the earth if anything happened to you.”

They rounded a corner and the gates of the palace rose to view and Merlin gasped in wonder. “Whoa.” He pointed, “Who lives there?”

“The king of Camelot, Uther Pendragon, and all his family and household. Which now, coincidentally,” he poked Merlin’s nose, “Includes you.”

“What do you mean?”

“I am the royal physician for Uther and his family. A job which Freya may someday inherit.”

“What will I do?”

“I have another important job for you, dear boy. But that will come in due time.”

Their horse strode into the yard and Gaius swept down from horseback, stretching his stiff muscles. After popping every joint in his back he lifted his arms to collect Merlin and set him on the ground. A stable hand had just come out to collect their mount and arrange the transfer of their baggage when a little, but loud, voice startled Gaius.

“Gaius!” A little girl with dark brown hair and eyes raced to his side and trapped his legs in a hug. “You’re back!”

“Freya, my dear. How fares my darling girl?”

“She fares well,” Freya replied. Just then noticing Merlin, she looked from the boy to the man and asked, “Who’s he?”

Gaius disentangled his legs from her grasp and clasped a hand on each child’s shoulder. “Freya, this is Merlin. Merlin, this is Freya.” Looking at Freya he said, “Merlin’s mother was a dear friend of mine who has died and entrusted Merlin into my care. He’ll be your new foster brother.” Chuckling at Freya’s face of distaste at the thought he then turned to Merlin. “Merlin, Freya’s parents also died,” he hesitated, not wanting to tell him the entirety of the story, unfit as it was for a child. Even Freya didn’t know the whole story. “They died in a fire. She was alone in the streets with no one to care for her so I took it upon myself to do so. She’s your new foster sister.”

Gaius stepped back and let the two take measure of each other.

Freya was the first to break the tension, reaching to touch Merlin’s travel worn clothes and lifting strands of his short, dusty hair. Merlin returned the gesture, he plucked up a long strand of Freya’s hair and twirled it around a finger. Merlin was the first to speak.

“Do you like flowers?”

“Of course,” Freya squeaked happily in reply. “Who doesn’t like flowers?”

From that moment on Gaius knew they would get on just fine.

 

~*~

 

The next few years of Merlin’s life were a literal exercise in patience. Patience, poise, arts and sciences, poetry and mathematics and language and, of course, magic. The boy’s life was filled with such learning, scholastic and practical, that he often went to bed at night with his head spinning. His first lesson was to be silent, to fade into the background of a room and observe. Gaius taught both his proteges the merit of silence and all that could be gained from it. And he did it slowly.

He started by taking them with him on his daily rounds about the court and would quiz them upon their return to their apartments; who had what illness, who was passing letters to whom, which guard had a fondness for which maid servant? Eventually he began to teach them how these little pieces of information could be used to get a bigger picture of their surroundings. And Gaius was not alone in his teaching.

A woman from Gaius’s past had come to live at the palace as a singer and harpist just a few short weeks after Merlin made his home in Camelot. Her name was Vivianne. Gaius, at first, hadn’t told them how he came to know Vivianne.

Only that she was a well educated woman who would imprint onto both Freya and, more importantly, Merlin very special knowledge and skills. And at first, they didn’t understand. Vivianne had just taught them the basics of courtly behavior and manners. She taught them dancing and table etiquette, the proper way to introduce and be introduced. She taught Freya how to embroider and Merlin how to arrange flowers, a small nod to the bond he had shared with his mother. She taught them many things, grooming them for life in court.

It had become clear, after a time, that Freya was well suited to the life a physician and it had been decided that she would succeed Gaius as the court physician upon his retirement. Merlin, however remained in the dark about his lot in life. That is until a very clear event in Merlin’s memory manifested itself.

One morning, the spring that Merlin turned ten and Freya eleven, while cleaning up after his utensils for flower arranging, scissors, pins and lose plant bits, Merlin pricked his finger on a pin.

The shock to his system was electric. It coursed along his spine to the tips of his toes. He couldn’t explain the sudden pleasure the prick had caused, nor could he explain the reason that, while the prick was painful, he didn’t mind it in the slightest. He stood there, offending pin in hand, staring at the drop of blood welling to his finger’s surface, puzzled at this new wealth of information.

That is how Gaius found him. Surprised and a tad embarrassed, Merlin stuck the finger in his mouth to suck away the blood. “I don’t know what happened,” he said earnestly to Gaius, his face confused.

“I know, son.” He plucked the pin from Merlin’s numb fingers and helped him clean his finger.

The next morning Gaius sat Merlin down and explained to him everything he had been so desperate to know. Gaius started with some apprehension, “Merlin, I know that you have been wanting to know for some time now what the little mote in your eye means.”

Excitement flooded the boys face.“Yes! Are you finally going to tell me?”

Licking his lips nervously Gaius pushed himself to explain. “Merlin, the mote in your eye. It’s very special. Do you know why?” At Merlin’s admittance of ignorance Gaius continued. “It’s a sign of great power. A great kind of magic. You are what’s known as an _anguisette_.”

“ _Anguisette?_ ” Merlin tilted his head in confusion. “What’s an _anguisette_? Some kind of wizard?”

“No.” Seeing the boy’s face fall Gaius was quick to add, “Though you do have the makings of a wizard in you as well. Luckily for you, you can be both.” He paused and smiled at the boy. “You will have a great role to play, my dear.”

“I will?”

“Yes. An anguisette’s great skill is to endure pain. It is to take please in pain. Understand?” Merlin’s eyes widened in sudden recollection. “You mean like yesterday? When I pricked my finger?”

“Exactly. When you pricked your finger it hurt, right?” Merlin nodded in agreement. “But you didn’t find it unpleasant did you?”

“Are there others like me? Other _anguisettes_? What am I meant to do as an _anguisette_?”

Gaius then told a tale of the past. He spoke of how long ago there were all manner of magical creatures. The chief of them all were the dragons, sent by the god Kushiel, maker of the first dragons. Back in the time of dragons Kushiel made the giant beasts the dispensers of magical justice in the world. By humans they were also seen as a sign of passion and deep hunger, the fire in their bellies being a literal manifestation of the fire in men’s hearts. Sometimes a human would be chosen by the old god, one in a thousand, to serve as speakers for the dragons. They were marked by a red mote in their eyes; Kushiel’s dart. _Anguisettes_ became both relievers of pain and skilled in giving and receiving pain. By tradition they were also givers of pleasure, courtesans, and dispensers of justice when the dragons saw fit for them to be so. Gaius explained that they pledged to live the life of a courtesan and to deal with pain as they were sought. And, as an _anguisette_ , he could take the pain of a patron by being gentle or fierce, could take the blows of a patron in the throes of passion and be grateful. Gaius had taught them long ago that magic was forbidden in the kingdom and had told them the tale of Uther’s great hunt for all things magical. Unicorns, gryphons and dragons were slayed by the score. Of course magic could still be found when one knows where to look. But since the fall of the dragons _anguisettes_ stopped being born. Their ilk died in flames just like their dragon counterparts and the traits that identified them were lost to legend.

Kushiel stopped firing his darts into the dark.

“But then how come I have the mark, Gaius?”

“Because Uther kept one.” He held up a finger for emphasis, “A single dragon, hidden in a vast cave beneath the palace, to make an example of all who think to challenge Uther and his decrees.”

Merlin’s brain slowly wrapped around the concept. “But, how am I to serve a dragon that I cannot get to?” He swallowed thickly and then asked, “Am I to be a courtesan?”

“Only if you want to as it is customary for an _anguisette_ to do so. I will force nothing on you. Though, I think once you come to understand your gift you’ll want it more than anything.” He rose and said, “As for the dragon, he will call to you when he deems you ready to receive him.”

“But wait,” Merlin added. “What about Freya? Will she be a courtesan too?”

“No. She will play a role as equally important as my successor. She will take up the healing arts. She has a natural talent for it.” Seeing the boy’s frown he added, “But for now,” he motioned to the next room where Vivianne was waiting, “Vivianne will give you your first lessons on what it is to be a courtesan.Though never being one herself she has had experience teaching courtesans skills necessary to their profession. When you are older we will find someone more suitable.”

The rest of the day was spent at Vivianne’s side, being taught the basics of how one becomes a courtesan. There was one thing that stuck out sharply in his mind: his marque.

“A marque?” Merlin had never heard the term before.

“Yes. It’s a tattoo that you will receive upon your back, piece by piece through your work and gifts received from your future patrons, that will eventually mark you as free to work for yourself.” She paused, finger tapping her chin. “Though you are not technically indentured to Gaius, he doesn’t have a monetary claim on you or your future work, it is customary to display the achievement of self-ownership.”

“What will it look like?”

She smiled fondly and poked the boys nose. “Time will tell.”

Merlin took away much from this day’s lessons. The chiefest of all was that he was destined to come to love pain as much as pleasure. His heart fluttered in his chest like a nervous hummingbird. He didn’t know what exactly made him want to run but he suddenly had the need to run.

He snuck out his front door and took off across the courtyard of the palace and into the night of Camelot.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Vivianne in my story more closely resembles the Vivianne who is Lady of the Lake in the Mists of Avalon series.


	3. Chapter 3

Merlin ran through mostly empty streets until he was in a part of the city he did not recognize. Here the doorways had lamps of many colors strung up between the windows of the buildings and people gathering in doorways of pubs and shops, bustling as though it were daytime. He slowed his pace and the gravity of being lost settled in.

He didn’t panic. He was trained to be calm and observe. He would find his way home. Eventually.

In his carelessness to watch his feet he stumbled into a cart that was selling mooncakes, little honeyed cakes that one only finds on the streets at night.

“Watch it, brat!” The lady who had been pushing the cart put herself within inches of Merlin and made ready to smack his hand in recompense for upsetting her cakes. Then the light from her cart’s lantern caught his eye.

“Aye! Gods new and old! This one’s cursed!” She made a sign of warding in Merlin’s direction and backed away in fear. While no one had ever really taken to him before, -besides Gaius, Vivianne and Freya,- no one had ever treated Merlin with such disdain in his whole life. He trembled and stood in the middle of the street as many pairs of eyes filled the doorways and windows came to pass judgement.

At that moment Merlin was at a loss as to what to do.

It was just his luck that a boy came running up behind him to push him running into the alleyway.

“Move it, clothead,” The boy shouted. “That hag’s screaming will bring the guards in!”

The two boys ran, panting down the alleyway. They nearly missed the clanking sounds of soldiers on horseback investigating the disturbance Merlin had unwittingly caused. They ran until they were out of breath and sagged against the side of a well near the outskirts of town.

“So clothead,” the boy said, dipping a pail into the well to draw water. “You look like you’ve never been to Night’s Doorstep before.”

“Where?”

“Ah,” he said smiling. “You really had no idea of where you were?” Merlin shook his head and the boy laughed. “Aw man, you’re something.” He pulled the pail up and dipped his hand in to slurp at the cool, refreshing water. “You royalty or something?”

Merlin chuckled, “Not exactly.”

“Then what are you?”

“How about you first? Who are you?”

The boy wiped his wet hand on his breeches and stuck it out. “Gwaine, at your service.”

“Merlin.” The boys shook hands and then Merlin dipped his own hand into the pail to drink in some water. Once he had his fill he stared at Gwaine anew. “Where’d you come from?”

“You never answered my question. You royalty?”

Merlin shook his head. “No. But I work for them, or at least my foster father does. He’s the king’s physician. My foster sister’s supposed to take his place when she’s good enough.”

“And what do you do,” Gwaine asked with crossed arms and smirking lips. Now that Merlin knew his role to play he didn’t know who to tell. _Who would use it against him? The boy who just saved him from a mob?_ He didn’t think so. “I’m to be a courtesan.”

“Really?” Gwaine laughed and gestured to Merlin, “Lookin’ like that?”

Merlin frowned, his face growing hot with embarrassment. “I’m still just a child. I’m not going round to any bedchambers tomorrow, thanks.” He began to walk away when Gwaine’s voice stopped him.

“Hey clothead, I didn’t mean anything by it. Here,” he nodded his head back towards the alley they came from. “I know a tart vendor who’s got poor eyesight. Why don’t I get you a snack before taking you home?"

“Oh, you’re my protector now,” Merlin retorted with as much sass as a ten year old could muster, crossing his arms.

Gwaine shrugged. “Someone’s got to keep your pretty head from getting trampled by gypsy sweet sellers.”

They laughed and linked arms, dashing back off down the alleyway they had emerged from only minutes before. True to his word Gwaine easily swiped two lemon tarts from a vendor who was much more interested in an ominous looking shadow than a pair of grubby hands sneaking into his cart. They talked and ate as Gwaine led Merlin back towards the palace gates.

When they arrived there were four horsemen mounting and making ready to leave and a frantic looking Gaius bustling about the courtyard. When he spotted Merlin and Gwaine he was furious.

“There you are! Where on earth have you been, Merlin you scared me near to death! And who is this?” Gaius gestured in Gwaine’s direction expecting an answer to both questions.

“Well, uh, I went for a walk.”

“A walk?” Gaius stood frowning over him, hands on his hips, looking like a good finger wagging was about to commence.

“Yeah, and then I met my new friend. This is Gwaine.”

Gwaine rubbed his dirty hands on his pants and held his right one out for Gaius to shake, which he did begrudgingly. “Pleasure to make your acquaintance, sir. Found ‘im wandering in Night’s Doorstep. Just seeing this clothead back to his bed.”

“Where you should also be, young man,” Gaius warned.

“You’re absolutely right. I’ll just be getting back then.” He turned to leave but stopped short and said to Merlin. “If you ever fancy another walk and a lemon tart you’ll know where to find me.” With nothing else to say he waved his goodbye and ran out of the courtyard as if the guards were chasing him.

Merlin watched him go, a smile tugging at his lips.

“Merlin, come with me. We need to have a discussion about your little...adventure tonight.”

Sobered by the seriousness in Gaius’s tone, a tone he rarely used with him or Freya, Merlin bent his head in contrition and followed. When they reached the physician’s apartments he set Merlin down in a chair and handed him a glass of water, sitting down on the opposite side of the table.

“Why did you run, Merlin?”

The boy shrugged, unsure himself why he needed to run, and took a small sip of water. “I don’t know. Something inside told me to run.”

Gaius rubbed his face and sighed. “Perhaps you weren’t ready to learn what you are. I should have waited a bit longer.”

“No!” Merlin’s response shocked both himself and Gaius with it’s ferocity. With a calmer voice he repeated, “No. It’s good to know. I’ve always wondered why I was different. I’m glad to know.”

Gaius turned a tired smile on him and took Merlin’s hand in his own. “Promise me one thing, please?”

“Anything, Gaius.”

“Do not ever go back to Night’s Doorstep alone again. If you wish to visit your new little friend just send word to myself and I’ll arrange for a guard to go with you.” His mouth frowned again and his eyes dropped to the table. “You must understand that it’s very dangerous for a child of your age to run around alone. Even more so once people find out what you are.”

Merlin nodded, “I understand.”

“Good. Now, get to bed before I change my mind about letting you out of this house again. Ever.” Merlin was quick to acquiesce and bounded up the stairs to the room he shared with Freya and into bed.


	4. Chapter 4

The day came that Merlin and Freya learned the reason for the great lengths Gaius took to educate them. Granted, it wasn’t uncommon for courtesans to know several languages, nor was it unheard of for a physician to know poetry. But for both of them to have such a broad, collective knowledge between them was certainly cause for surprise among the other members of court. Once Merlin’s future profession became common knowledge at court people began to whisper behind their hands and closed doors.

One day while the little troupe made their rounds about the castle, dispensing their tonics and checking on the inhabitants, Gaius was finally confronted.

The woman’s name was Lady Olga Atherton. She had been receiving a weekly tonic to ease her headaches for several years. Because of her familiarity with the physician and his fosterlings she felt it was her place to ask, “why’d you educate a courtesan so highly?” She pointed an accusatory finger in Merlin’s direction. “I understand the girl with so much learning. She’s going to be a physician.” She paused, smiling at Freya. But then she turned her judgemental eye back to Merlin. “He’ll just be making a living on his back. Aren’t you wasting your time?”

While Merlin shrank back, trying to hide behind Freya, despite their similar heights, Gaius bristled and raised himself to his full height. “My Lady,” he stated coldly. “Merlin is a very bright boy. And all knowledge is worth having. I am in a position to give him, and Freya, a very fine education and I intend to do so while I still draw breath.”

Lady Atherton just sniffed unpleasantly in their direction and slammed her door in their faces.

As they were making their way to the King’s chambers Merlin finally regained his voice. He tugged on the back of Gaius’s robes to get his attention. “Why does she care if I’m educated?”

Gaius stopped and turned to face him, disdain for the woman written all over his face. “Because,” he said calmly. “Some people have a predetermined desire to think the worst of others. She does not see the value in you but I promise you,” he stroked the stop of Merlin’s head once, “you have great value, Merlin. And many others will see it too.”

They walked the rest of the way to the royal apartments in silence.

Reaching the doors Gaius addressed the guards standing watch. “The King and Queen are expecting us.” The two guards stepped aside and opened the doors for them to enter the receiving room. Immediately a maid servant appeared and beckoned them to follow her to the Queen’s bedchamber.

In a rich but modest room, decorated in various shades of pink and blue and light colored woods, the Queen lay abed with her husband and son in attendance.

Gaius bowed as did Merlin while Freya curtsied. “Your Majesties,” he said as he approached the bed. “It pains me to see you so drawn, Lady Ygraine.”

Ygraine smiled weakly and covered half her face with her hand, shaking her head. “Gaius, you’ve seen me much worse. Remember the day Arthur was born?” She smiled at the fair headed boy standing at her bedside, face full with love. “What a day that was.”

“I remember all too well, my Lady.” He bent to touch her head and feel for fever. “How are we feeling this morning?”

“Tired as usual. My limbs ache and throb. But at least I’m awake to see how beautiful the sun is today.” She smiled sadly at the window. “Some days I miss it entirely.”

“But on those days I’m your sun, right mother,” Arthur asked with a childish, yet endearing, smugness.

“Indeed you are, my dear.” She pulled him to her side and kissed his head.

“Ygraine,” Uther groaned. “You’ll soften the boy with all your mothering. Soon you’ll be dressing him in silks and having him sewing with Morgana.”

“And you’ll make him hard as stone with all your grimacing,” Ygraine teased. “Better to have a boy who is both strong and kind than to have one with no compassion.”

Uther didn’t seem to agree. This Merlin noted with special attention. The King seemed done with conversation and said curtly to Gaius, “Just put her back on her feet, Gaius. You always know what to do.” With that he stormed off to his own set of apartments.

“Children,” Gaius addressed his fosterlings. “Why don’t you take our young Prince out to the sitting room to play a game of cards while Ygraine and I have a talk.”

“But I’m here to keep moth-...the Queen company,” the Prince protested.

“Arthur, dear,” Ygraine soothed. “You may continue to sit with me till dinner. But first Gaius needs to examine me. That is something not fit for a son’s eyes.” She kissed his head lightly and gestured to the doors. “I’m sure these two will offer sufficient distraction.” She smiled warmly to Merlin and Freya. “Won’t you, dears?”

“Yes, Your Majesty,” the two fosterlings said in tandem.

Arthur rolled his eyes as if he didn’t believe that anyone other than his mother could offer entertainment at the moment and led the way out of the room, Gaius shutting the door after them.

Finding themselves in the royal common area Arthur rounded on the other children. “So how do you propose to entertain me, hmm?”

Merlin and Freya looked at each other, conspiring silently.

Freya tried first. “Gaius suggested a game of cards. Would that please the Prince?”

“No it would not.” Arthur folded his arms across his chest stubbornly.

“Would you like to play chess,” Merlin suggested. “Both Freya and I are adept players. Perhaps we could provide a healthy challenge to you?”

“Chess is for rainy days,” Arthur sighed, his eyes drifting to the window. “I want to spar! It’s so sunny and nice out.” But then he stared at his mother’s door and his worry over her showed as his teeth bit into his lower lip.

Merlin cleared his throat and pretended not to see. “Unfortunately, it is not courteous to spar inside the house.” He smiled full of cheek. “Might damage the fine furniture.”

Arthur sniffed, unappreciative of Merlin’s sense of humor. “It’ll one day be my furniture to damage.”

“Some day,” Merlin agreed. “But not today. Perhaps something less destructive?”

“Are you sassing your Prince?”

“No, my Lord.”

“Because it sounds like you’re sassing me.” Arthur started crossing the room slowly towards Merlin, mischief flavored with annoyance shining in his eyes. “Do you know what happens to servants who-”

“I’m not a servant.”

Arthur stopped mid-stride. He seemed to have never been interrupted before. “Excuse me?” His voice dripped with angry confusion.

“I said,” Merlin punctuated each word clearly and separately. “I. Am. Not. A. Servant.”

“You dare to interrupt royalty...what did you say your name was?”

“Merlin.”

“Merlin.” He closed the short distance between them, inches apart. He was taller than Merlin, not by much, but enough to be slightly intimidating. He knew the Prince was around Freya’s age and their mere year in age separation shouldn’t have made him tremble all that much but it did. The rush of fear and excitement an unfamiliar elixir that awakened something in the young wizard. Rather than giving in to the urge to kneel Merlin stood straight, eyes downcast and he kept his breath slow and his face calm, not wanting to upset the Prince further. “Did you just interrupt royalty?”

Merlin’s heart pounded in his ears. “Only to correct, my Lord.”

“Alright then,” he sneered. “If you’re not a servant then what are you?”

Merlin leveled his eyes with Arthur’s and replied, “A courtesan in training.”

A smile threatened to tighten Arthur’s face but he controlled it before it spread fully. The look brought hot embarrassment to Merlin’s cheeks. “My father say courtesans are better seen and not heard, Merlin.” He flicked Merlin’s nose. “Perhaps that’s something you should remember.”

Arthur turned away to find a place to sit and brood and Merlin couldn’t stop himself. Even when his brain kept shouting the word _danger, danger, danger,_ loudly in his head he couldn’t stop himself.

“His Majesty will remember that courtesans must consent to being touched. I did not give you permission to touch my nose in such a fashion,” he added with much sarcasm, “My Lord.”Freya gasped and he knew he had crossed a line.

Arthur whirled around so fast that it surprised Merlin. “Listen here, you little whore in training,” Arthur snarled, “I can do whatever. I. Like.” He stopped at Merlin’s toes. “Including,” he flicked Merlin’s nose again, “Flicking a whore’s nose.” He laughed at Merlin’s anger, now plainly clear on his face. “What’re you going to do about it?” Merlin’s hand curled into a fist at his side. Arthur saw and he laughed again. “Oh, you want to hit me, is that it?”

He stepped back and motioned with his fingers. “Come on, Merlin.” He assumed a fighting stance and beckoned once more. “Hit me!”

Merlin was still undecided about knocking the royal brat on his royal butt when another dark haired boy, who looked about fourteen, walked in the room and touched Arthur’s shoulder.

“My Prince,” he said softly. “I think you’ve had enough fun harassing the help.”

Arthur relaxed into the boy’s touch and laughed. “Didn’t you hear, though, Lancelot? He’s not help. He’s a whore.”

He obviously expected Lancelot to join in the jibbing of Merlin’s future profession. Shock bloomed across the Prince’s face when instead Lancelot said, “You know, as well as I, that every job serves a purpose.” Lancelot looked at Merlin and Freya then back to Arthur. “Merlin’s chosen profession, his choice to be a courtesan, is nothing to look down on.”

Obviously not thrilled at being talked down to by anyone, Arthur scowled at Lancelot, then Merlin and Freya, before storming off to his own room. They all flinched when they heard a door slam. Then all was quiet.

Merlin let out a relieved breath.

“Why’d you have to irritate him like that,” Freya scolded. “He is royalty and you are not!”

“He was being such a brat,” Merlin said defensively. “Served him right.”

“Of course he’s being a brat. He’s upset, you big clothead!” Freya threw up her hands in mock disgust. “He’s upset that his mother is ailing and his father seems to not take it seriously.”

Lancelot joined their private squabble adding, “Very astute observation, uh…”

Freya dropped a curtsy. “Freya, mi’lord.”

“Oh, I’m no lord,” Lancelot shrugged off the misused title. “I’m just a Casseline. I’m his ordained protector for as long as the Prince lives. Or as long as I live, anyway.” He smiled at Freya and the girl blushed.

“Well, with an attitude like that he’ll need all the protecting he can get.”

“Get a hold of your mouth,” Freya scolded. Merlin’s ears turned pink at the rebuke.

Although Lancelot looked inclined to agree with Merlin he knew where his loyalties lie. “I would be wary of what you say about the royal family, Merlin was it?” Merlin nodded. “I would advise you both to steer clear of Arthur when he’s in a mood. He’s quick to anger and has few outlets to relieve it.”

“Perhaps you should take him sparring then? He certainly seemed ready to beat someone with a stick,” Merlin countered. “I hear it does wonders for adjusting one’s attitude.”

Lancelot frowned at Merlin with a look that suggested that perhaps Merlin needed an attitude adjustment. “Perhaps I should.” He bowed in leaving to the two fosterlings. “Pleasure to meet you Freya.” He took her hand and kissed it with all the propriety of a courtier. Then he turned a blank face to Merlin. “Can’t say the same of you, Merlin.” He took a step back and nodded. “I’ll be seeing you both around.” And with that he was gone, off in the direction of Arthur’s room.

 

~*~

 

Gaius came out not too much later after the Prince and the Casseline Lancelot departed. His eyebrow twitched in silent questioning but the question never left his lips. He just motioned for them to follow him and they made their way back to their shared apartments. When they arrived Gaius sank down into the nearest chair and rubbed his temples.

“I fear the queen is slipping. I can’t seem to pinpoint her illness. First it seems to be arthritis, then it seems to be constant fever, and then it seems to be pneumonia. Her symptoms are constantly changing. I don’t know what to make of it.”

“Nor I,” Freya added. “I’ve been studying ailments of the joints like you said to. There’s nothing that covers all her symptoms. It’s very odd.”

“Indeed.” He sighed deeply. “Oh, if only Uther hadn’t harbored such hatred for those with magic perhaps we could reclaim Avalon. They always had the best physicians. Those women always were very handy with an herb and cup of wine.”

Merlin’s ear perked up at the mention of somewhere he had never heard of before. “Avalon? Where is Avalon?”

Gaius’s eyes went wide and he realized he had said something he hadn’t meant to. “Oh, dear I’m getting old. Letting my mouth run away with my brain again.”

“Merlin was doing a fair bit of that today, too. Maybe it’s catching,” Freya joked, giggling behind her hand when Merlin shot a glare at her. Of course there was no malice behind it. It wasn’t in him to hate her for teasing. It was her own brand of affection and, quite honestly, he feared that if she ever stopped she wouldn’t love him anymore.

Merlin reminded Gaius of his question. “What is Avalon? Why haven’t you told us of this place before?”

“Because, dear boy, it’s an island of magic.” He made a dismissive gesture with his hand, “Though now it’s run by a coven of evil sorceresses. Really, this is no story for children.” He tried to stall, “Perhaps another time.”

“No, Gaius! Please,” Merlin pleaded.

“Yes, please? Tell us,” Freya joined in. They both knelt in front of Gaius eager to hear the story.

Gaius’s face turned ashen, afraid. “You don’t know what you ask. If I tell you then I cannot protect you. I can't protect you from the dangers that possessing this knowledge might come." 

Merlin repeated his own words from this morning. “All knowledge is worth having.”

Defeated, out-voted, Gaius began his story. “Avalon used to be the one place for magical folk of all kind to go and learn the trade of magic. No matter the type; charms, potions, healing magic, battle magic, the magic of song, beast training, it was all there. Masters of magic of all kinds flocked to the island to teach and to sharpen their skills. Even Vivianne. She taught the harp and singing. I dare say that her voice, given the proper motivation, could move the very gods to tears. I even spent two years there, myself, when I was a lad no older than you two. Had a friend named Raven who lived there. She was a mute but she was wicked at playing the lute.” He smiled, eyes far away.

“What happened,” Freya asked excitedly.

“Around the time that Uther made his decree against magic there arose a woman who led a rebellion against it. Her name was Morgause. She was originally a teacher of the magical arts on Avalon, an enchantress who specialized in glamours and disguises. At a time she was a friend of the Queen and had been at her side until she begot Arthur. She left the kingdom when Uther began the slaughter of magic. She believed that since Uther sought to kill all magical folk that it was perfectly reasonable to kill non-magical folk. For every wizard or witch slain at least a dozen non-magical men and women died. She was relentless. She rallied many others who, angry over the bloodshed of our kind, rose an army that threatened to take out all of Camelot.”

“But,” Merlin stammered, shock numbing him. “Magic is supposed to be a balance. It’s supposed to help people not destroy them.”

“Magic can destroy you if you let dark emotions rise above the good, Merlin. Many have fallen victim to the folly of magic, don’t you ever forget that.” He paused, letting his words sink in. “Eventually Uther pushed the rebellion back to the island and Morgause and her surviving followers shut off the island to all but those who believed as she did. The day she became Lady of the Lake, after murdering her peaceful predecessor, was the day that Avalon was closed off to the good side of magic.”

Merlin furrowed his brows in thought. “But I don’t understand. If she’s locked away, her followers with her, how is that knowledge dangerous to us? She can’t hurt us from there.” Then, uncertain he looked up at Gaius, “Can she?”

“She most certainly can.” He stared into the children’s eyes with intensity. “She’s a very powerful sorceress and my gathered intelligence has me very worried.” He shook his head. “But this is too much for you children. I’ve already put you in enough danger-”

“Why are you worried Gaius?” Merlin hoped that he radiated a seriousness beyond his years. He was desperate to know. To hear the end of the story.

Freya put a hand on Gaius’s knee, trying to comfort him and ease his anxiety. “Gaius. You took us and educated us for a reason. You said so yourself that we have a purpose and I know it’s not just to clean wounds and please patrons.” She took his hand and kissed it. “Please, Gaius. Tell us what worries you.”

Gaius stared in disbelief and chuckled darkly. “I raised you two to be too damned smart for your own good, you know that. Perhaps you should know why.” Pausing, pulling in a controlled breath he said, "it's always been my intention to shape you two into soldiers for good. Everything I taught you is to master skills of deception, entertainment and information gathering. You are only two of many who have been slowly working to make an end of Morgause and the sorceresses of Avalon, even if I hoped to spare you the brunt of it." At their sharp intake of breaths he stroked Freya’s cheek, her hand still upon his knee. He sighed deeply. “My sources tell me that she’s been gaining support. They say she’s grown confident in her powers again.” He sighed and closed his eyes. “She’s coming back. And this time, she means to kill off the whole royal family.”


	5. Chapter 5

Merlin’s thoughts were troubled. Gaius wouldn’t say anymore about Avalon or anything having to do with Morgause. Nor, unsurprisingly, had he found anything in the royal archives about dragonlore. There were too many unanswered questions about the future for his brain to wrap around. He needed to talk to a third party.

The next evening he requested leave to visit his friend Gwaine. Once the lanterns were lit he and a royal guard made their way to Night’s Doorstep. Merlin found him by the well where they had shared their names and a drink, playing a game of dice with some older children. As he approached the sound of much groaning erupted and Gwaine’s triumphant whoop of laughter rang out.

“Alright, boys! Pay it up!”

Several boys dropped coins into Gwaine’s open palm with a small amount of grumbling. A boy with a smattering of freckles that stretched from cheek to cheek and a flame of red hair dug deep into his pockets. “You know, I think you cheat. You obviously come from gypsy stock, maybe you’re robbing us with your gypsy magic.” He sneered and slapped a few coins into Gwaine’s hand.

“Now, now, Jaremy. You know magic is illegal.” Gwaine counted his coins and dropped them into a purse he produced from inside his shirt. “Besides, I’d have to be a gypsy to have gypsy magic.” He tucked the purse back into his shirt. “And since I’m neither gypsy nor magical you’ll just have to resign yourself to the fact that you’re absolute rubbish at dice.” At that moment he noticed Merlin watching the scene and his face spread into a big grin. “Now, gentlemen, if you’ll excuse me I have a very important meeting.”

The phrase “what kind of meeting would an eleven year old have that was so important” was uttered by someone and Gwaine ignored it. He walked right up to Merlin and embraced him. “Welcome back, clothead! Glad you found your way. Fancy a pie?”

The two boys raced off down a pathway, quickly losing Merlin’s escort for the moment, and Merlin watched as Gwaine swiped a couple of meat pies a bunch of grapes from a pair of adjoining stalls. By the time Merlin’s escort caught up with them the evidence of their thieving was devoured and the young wizard had gained the courage to ask Gwaine his questions in hushed whispers in the shadows of a performing band.

“Dragonlore,” Gwaine repeated. “Can’t say I know anything about it. But I have my ways of getting information from here and there. Would you like me to keep an ear out?”

“For that and for something else. This one is the big one.” Merlin quickly recapped Gaius’s story of Avalon to Gwaine.

The tramp whistled long and low. “Man, oh man. That is some dangerous stuff, there. That information might put a man in the stocks for a week. If they’re lucky.”

“Do you think you might be able to get any information on Avalon?”

Gwaine rubbed the back of his head nervously. “I don’t know, Merlin. If this sorceress is as nasty as she sounds there might not be a lot going around about her or her little island of harpies.” But then he put a hand on Merlin’s shoulder. “Can certainly try my best.”

Merlin brightened and hugged his friend.

They turned their attention to brighter things, willing the night to never end. This was only their second meeting and they mutually agreed that they would be the best of friends forever. Merlin had noticed that his escort was growing weary of his assignment and was silently pleading for him to draw this meeting to a close. But before he could get his goodbyes out of his mouth, a scuffle in an alleyway alerted his attention.

Ever curious he made the excuse of having to make water to slip out of the guard’s sight to investigate. While the guard’s back was turned he tugged Gwaine by his shirt and dragged him into the alley. What he found made his jaw drop.

The crowned Prince. In an alley. In peasant’s clothes. Getting shoved around by a couple of urchin’s hoping to squeeze a few shillings from him.

Arthur’s back slammed into a wall, the wind pushed out of him, his two assailants holding him up. He wheezed, “You are going to regret that.”

The boys laughed. One said, “Oh really? And who’s going to stop us, huh?”

“I will.”

Merlin’s voice startled the boys who were holding Arthur, enough to let their grasp loosen. Arthur took the opportunity of surprise and jerked out of the grasp of the boy on his right and slam a fist into the boy on his left. The boy went down clutching his side and the boy on his right tried to grab him. Merlin searched the alley for anything he could use to help him.

Spying an upturned crate Merlin focused on it, willing it to move into the bully’s path causing him to trip. The boy went sprawling into the dirt beside his friend and Arthur stomped on the boy’s hand, crushing the delicate bones. He heard Gwaine’s sharp intake of breath and assumed that he was watching the Prince and was surprised to find Gwaine’s yes on him. Merlin’s eyes went wide and he mouthed _please don’t say anything_. Gwaine nodded and Merlin remembered to breathe.

The bullies decided they had not picked as easy a target as they thought and wisely ran off down the alley with Arthur’s voice chasing them, “Better run! Told you you’d regret that!”

After a moment of smug triumph Arthur turned his gaze on the two boys who had come upon him in his hour of need, their mouths hanging open. A flicker of recognition fluttered across the Prince’s face. “Oh, Merlin. Will wonders ever cease.” He strode over to the boys and grinned haughtily. “You have a little friend.”

Gwaine stepped in from Merlin to shield him from the perceived, possibly real, threat of abuse from Arthur. “That’s right he’s got a friend. What’s it to you?” Merlin’s heart swelled at the genuine affection and protectiveness in Gwaine’s voice.

“Well,” Arthur crossed his arms and sarcasm dripped from his voice. “I just would have thought that the whores of court wouldn’t be caught down in the slums with the common folk.” He wiggled his fingers in mockery, “Wouldn’t want your dainties soiled by dirty money, would you Merlin?”

Gwaine tossed a confused and angry look at Merlin. With a thumb stuck out in Arthur's direction he asked, “you know this tosser?”

Merlin cleared his throat and addressed Gwaine. “As a matter of fact, I do. However unpleasantly.” He made a deep bow to Arthur and then addressed the Prince. “Prince Arthur of Camelot, “ he gestured to the Prince and then to Gwaine, “may I present Gwaine, Prince of Thieves.”

Gwaine barked a laugh. “Oh, you bestowing all kinds of titles, now? This can’t be the real Prince Arthur.” He clapped an arm on Merlin’s shoulder and chuckled. “And really, Prince of Thieves? Really, I’m honored. Mum would be proud.”

Arthur stepped closer and said, “I assure you, gutterbird, I am most definitely the crowned Prince.” When Gwaine’s mouth hung open he gestured, “Well, what are you waiting for? Kneel in my presence. It is polite.”

Gwaine dropped to his knees. Merlin remained standing.

Merlin fumed. “Those are big words coming from you, my Lord.”

“Excuse me?”

“‘It’s polite’? What do you know about manners? You’re as rude as they come. And I say that knowing Lady Atherton.” Arthur looked as if he were about to retort but Merlin cut him off. “Is that anyway to repay the people who help you?”

Arthur was taken aback. “Help me? What did you do to help me?”

“We distracted the two boys who had you so thoroughly pinned to the wall. Or have you forgotten that little detail?”

Arthur sniffed. “Didn’t need your help. Could’ve found my own way out.”

“Yeah,” Merlin said with a smirk, “But you didn’t.” He reached down and pulled Gwaine up from his kneeling. “I think you should thank us.”

Now it was Arthur’s turn to stare open-mouthed. “Thank you? You want me to thank you? For what, doing a citizen’s job and protecting their sovereign?”

“Thought you didn’t need any help.”

 

Merlin had rendered him speechless.

The three boys stared at each other in silence, trying to come up with an appropriate response, until Merlin’s forgotten escort discovered them. His voice startled them. “Witches’ tits! Your Majesty,” the guard said in a panic, bowing low. “What are you doing down here? It’s not safe for you!” He made a grab towards the boys and got a hold of Merlin first.

Merlin shouted at his friend, “run, Gwaine!” The boy didn’t have to be told twice. It was definitely not in his best interest to be dragged back to the palace with an evidently missing Prince.

The guard twisted his fist in Arthur’s peasant clothes and manhandled the boys in front of him. “Okay, boys. Party’s over. Back to the palace before I end up on the gallows for endangering royal lives. Bad enough I had to spend my evening listening to childish chatter, now I might have my head on a spike because the heir to the throne decided to take a pleasure walk through Night’s Doorstep!”

The guard grumbled all the way back to the castle where the house guard greeted them. When they entered the courtyard a loud voice boomed at them from the stairway to the palace entrance.

“Arthur!” Arthur flinched and swallowed thickly, all his previous bravado abandoned. The King made his way down the stairs, slowly and menacingly. “How dare you leave the palace grounds without my permission! Without escort! Explain yourself this instant!”

The few servants who had occupied the yard suddenly found other places to be, unwilling to witness their Prince’s humiliation. Arthur stammered, trying to form words in his mouth and Merlin suddenly felt a rush of pity. He had a hundred guesses as to why Arthur would decide to run unescorted from the grounds and none of them had to do with being just another royal brat out for a pleasure walk. He lifted his hand and placed it on Arthur’s shoulder.

Arthur stopped his stuttering and looked at Merlin directly with questions screaming from his eyes. Then Merlin spoke, addressing the King. “Sire, it was my fault.”

“What?” Uther strode down the remaining steps until he was looming over the child. “What exactly are you confessing, whelp?”

Merlin lifted his hand from Arthur and sank to his knees in front of Uther with his head bent. “I confess to convincing the Prince to walk the streets of Camelot unescorted.”

Uther was aghast. “Why would you ever suggest such a thing?” Then addressing his son he asked, “why would you ever agree to such a ridiculous and, might I add, dangerous notion?”

Arthur moved to speak but Merlin beat him to it. “Because, Sire, Arthur had expressed a desire for adventure and I was meeting a friend and thought he would like to join us. I did not think you would notice and I apologize for my stupidity.”

Uther’s eyes burned into the top of Merlin’s head, which he refused to lift even a tiny fraction, until he finally spoke again. “Rouse Gaius immediately. Tell him that his little fosterling is to be lashed at dawn.”

Arthur gasped and tried to defend Merlin. “No, father! Please don’t, I’m sorry I ran! It’s not Merlin’s fault, please!”

“He just confessed so do not lie for him! You are lucky that this was not your idea or else you would be sitting on the block with him.” Uther paused and seemed to have made a decision. “However, as your own punishment for defying me, you will be in attendance. You will watch your friend,” the word falling from his mouth with disdain, “bleed for you. Hopefully this will teach you to be more mindful of your actions.” He whirled away and barked the order for the guards to take Merlin to the dungeons and for Arthur to be returned to his room.

Before the boys were parted by their appointed guards Arthur hurriedly asked, “Merlin, why?”

Merlin, both terrified and exhilarated, responded, “fulfilling my civic duty, my Lord. Protecting my sovereign.”

They were pulled apart then and Arthur stared back at Merlin until they disappeared behind separate doors; Merlin down into the dungeons and Arthur up into the foyer of the palace.

 

~*~

 

Dawn brought with it terror at the prospect of pain and humiliation and a very scared and frantic Gaius. The physician had come before the guards and had whispered through the gate matter of factly, “You never talked to the Prince about walking around in the gutters of Camelot. Tell me you did not.” He was incredibly cross and incredibly scared, vibrating with barely held emotion.

Merlin sighed deeply. “No.”

“Then why did you lie, Merlin? It is admirable to protect your future king but at what cost to you? The King would have been lenient with his own son but with you,” his words died in his throat. Seeing Gaius’s distress made shame coil in Merlin’s stomach. He had never meant to hurt his foster father.

“The King said that if Arthur ran on his own, if it was his idea, then he would be whipped also.” Merlin had been thinking about that all night. “Why would a father whip his own son like that, Gaius?”

Gaius gripped the bars. He asked him again, “why, Merlin?”

Merlin bit his lip. He had been thinking about that too. He finally had an answer. “The Prince needed me. He needed a friend to save him.”

There was no more talking as right then the guards came to take Merlin up to the courtyard to carry out his punishment. Gaius followed behind and Merlin kept sneaking glances back at him. Gaius had hoped his face was giving off a sense of strength for Merlin to draw from but he had his doubts about that.

The sun had not yet crested and there was a pinkish gray haze over the world when he emerged from the dungeons. In the center of the yard a pole with a bar stretched across the top like a cross had been erected. Dangling from the top of the bar were shackles and chains. There was straw scattered beneath. _To catch the blood_ , Merlin thought. His heart hammered uncontrollably in his fear. In attendance were the King and Queen, young Arthur and the King’s ward Lady Morgana, Lancelot and a couple of high ranking courtiers. They were all seated before the post, waiting. _At least it will be a small crowd,_ he consoled to himself.

They stripped him of his shirt and made him kneel in the straw to chain his hands above his head. Once he was placed the King stood and spoke.

“Merlin. You have confessed to, however innocently and unwittingly, endangering a member of the royal household. Since you are but a child and a foster child of a member of the royal court, and Arthur was returned unharmed, I am being extremely lenient.” He addressed Gaius directly. “He will be given fifteen lashes with a switch of green wood.” He turned to Merlin. “It will hurt but it will not scar. Hopefully you will not need a lasting, physical reminder of what it means to cross me.” He sat and gave the motion for the punishment to begin.

Merlin braced himself, his body tense, and he sucked in shallow breaths. When the first blow fell he lost his breath entirely, the air leaving him with a cry.

It hurt. It was sharp and pain bloomed where the switch had landed. His skin burned and his brow began to sweat. But there was something else humming beneath the surface. The sensation was barely registered before the next blow fell, just below the first, ripping another cry from him. The pain was new and yet it seemed like an old friend. Like a sharp caress, a fiery kiss. He felt like lightning had shot through his body. His forehead pressed into the wooden post and he screamed in pain.

Eventually the blows stopped falling and Merlin was shaking with pain and tears. He felt someone tugging at his wrists to release him from the shackles and his arms fell to his sides. The moment his arms were free he gasped in pain and then Gaius was there. The physician wrapped him in his own cloak and lifted him from the post. Bowing briefly to the royal family, his face blank, he strode out of the yard and towards his apartments.

Merlin had not stopped crying the entire way back but his gasps and sobs had slowed to an occasional hiccup and sniffling. When they walked through the door to their apartments Freya was there immediately to greet them.

“Oh Merlin,” concern shone in her eyes and she asked Gaius, “what do you need me to do?”

He took Merlin up to the children’s room and set him gently on the bed. “Lie on your stomach Merlin. We’ll help you with the pain.” He turned to respond to Freya. “Fetch me a pail of water and I need you to start dipping some linen in that antiseptic I showed you how to mix earlier. We need to clean and dress the wounds so they don’t break open and bleed. Luckily, they’re just welts now but that could change.” He cast his eyes on Merlin again and reassured him that his skin would not scar and he would soon be back to normal. _Anguisettes_ had an unnatural ability to heal seamless and quickly.

While Freya fetched the water Gaius had asked for he mixed cool tea with some pain killing powders to help take the edge off for Merlin. By then the tears had stopped but Merlin shivered with the pain. “Well I hope it was worth it. I have my doubts that Arthur will even remember what you did for him, but maybe he will surprise me.”

In no time at all Gaius had gingerly dressed Merlin’s welts, schooling Freya in the process, and Merlin was drifting off to sleep with the soporific effects of the drugs Gaius had given him. A few hours later Gaius roused him lightly.

“Merlin, the Prince is here to see you.”

Groggy and confused Merlin tried to sit up when a young voice stopped him, “please. Don’t move. Don’t make it worse.”

Merlin tore his eyes away from their place directed on the sheets to look into the eyes of the Prince he had willingly taken a whipping for. Tears threatened to fall again but Merlin willed them away. Silence stretched between the two boys. Gaius stood and excused himself from the room. They were alone.

Arthur grabbed a chair from the corner of the room and came to sit in front of Merlin. “Why did you really do it?”

“Because,” he hesitated, unsure if the Prince would laugh at his reason. “Because you seemed like you needed a friend. Because I didn’t want to see you whipped by your father.”

“He whipped you,” Arthur countered.

“Thoroughly.” They both chuckled at that and then Merlin gasped in pain. “Gods, laughing hurts.”

Arthur examined Merlin’s back with his eyes, a frown appearing on his face. “He shouldn’t have done that.” He looked down into his own clasped hands. “I shouldn’t have left the palace alone.” Arthur let a tear fall and it landed on his right thumb. “My actions have consequences it seems and I’m...sorry.”

The unexpected apology hit Merlin square in the chest. Even though moving hurt like nothing he had ever experienced, he reached out to Arthur’s hand and kissed the tear that had landed on the Prince’s thumb. The salt wet his lips and it seemed like a transaction had been made; tears of pain for tears of gratitude. “Apology accepted, my Lord.”

“Arthur,” the Prince quickly responded. “Please. You’ve defended me, put yourself in harm’s way for me. I think that would make us a little more than sovereign and citizen don’t you think?”

Merlin smiled. “Friends, then?”

“Friends.”


	6. Chapter 6

The next four years saw Merlin and Freya blossoming into young adulthood. Freya had turned fifteen and the year before she had officially joined the Physicians’ Guild and pledged herself to the study of medical science and had been named as Gaius’ apprentice officially. When Merlin turned fourteen himself it seemed that he also would have a big celebration.

The morning of his birthday Merlin woke to Gaius speaking to him softly. “Merlin, wake up. Today’s a big day.”

Merlin rubbed the sleep from his eyes. “What’s so special about this birthday?”

“Do you still wish to be a courtesan?”

Merlin nodded, “of course, Gaius.”

“Then today is the day you pledge yourself to the court. It is also the day that we start our search to find you a private tutor to teach you everything Vivianne cannot.”

Gaius took him to the bathhouse where he was washed and scented with oils and his hair and nails were trimmed to a perfect neatness. Once sufficiently groomed Gaius took him aside and held out a box for him to open. “Happy birthday, Merlin.”

When he opened it he was speechless. Inside the box lay a beautiful pair of light brown doeskin pants and a finely made, red linen shirt. The color was deep maroon and it complimented the lightness of the pants perfectly. The suit was paired with a deep brown leather belt and pair of boots that reached the top of Merlin’s calves. An expensive present for one still growing.

“Gaius,” Merlin managed to squeak. “How did you pay for all of this?”

“For this and for another suit, one that will be purchased for your debut, I have been putting money aside. Freya has a dowry set aside as well for her to use should she choose to marry.” He caressed Merlin’s cheek lovingly. “I want to give you two the best. And I want you to make an impression today.”

“No doubt of that at all,” he took the box and started to walk away. But then he turned abruptly and hugged Gaius to him tightly. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. Now go get dressed. After your pledge they’re welcoming a new member to court, no one seems to know who. There will be a feast in her honor. It’s going to be a long day.”

Merlin dressed with care. He made certain that his shirt didn’t crease and his pants were smoothed. The boots shone spectacularly and he silently wished his feet wouldn’t grow more so that he could keep them forever, they were so fine. Primped and pressed Merlin made his way to the receiving hall to make his pledge to the court.

While the court was being made ready Merlin was left to pace nervously in the shadows. In a few moments his life would be decided for real and he would embark on a path he was sure would be terrifying and rewarding. He remembered how he felt on the whipping post; breathless, excited, chest tight with fear. He felt his palms sweat.

A hand yanked him into a closet and he stifled a shriek. “Happy to see me,” a familiar voice whispered.

“Arthur,” Merlin gasped. “You shouldn’t be here! You should be in the hall with your family!”

“Morgana is running late. Her nightmares are getting worse and Gaius is tending to her for a few moments before the ceremony.” He smiled and leaned in. “You never answered me. Happy to see me?” He wiggled his eyebrows and Merlin’s cheeks pinked.

“Always.” He had always rejoiced in having a friend, for he had few; Freya, who had been more of a sister, Gwaine and now Lady Morgana and Arthur. In between his lessons he had made time to visit with Arthur and Gwaine any chance he could. He had become friendly with Morgana at first out of necessity because sometimes he and Arthur would need a conspirator in their meetings and then later out of sincere fondness. And while they were often in each other’s company, Lancelot remained somewhat standoffish. Even after all this time, their first meeting seemed to curb any outright friendship between them from forming. Merlin understood. Lancelot had a future king to protect and he wouldn’t let any other ties prevent him from doing his duty.

Over the years Merlin’s attachment to Arthur started to change from a friendly bond to, more recently, something harder to define. He spent the last few years watching the Prince spar with Lancelot and the other boys training to be warriors. He watched the Prince’s muscles sculpt themselves over time and became more self-conscious as Arthur grew more handsome as the days wore on while he seemed to just grow taller and skinnier. He watched the Prince learning matters of state, occasionally hearing snippets of Uther’s lectures to Arthur. He knew that Arthur was just as intelligent as he and that the young heir would make a fantastic king.

He was perfect, or so Merlin thought, and his breath left him any time he and Arthur were left alone together.

He knew that they could never be more than friends but the urge to hug and kiss him grew more steadily in the past recent weeks and now he was going to pledge himself to do that and more with people who were strangers. Being stuffed into a closet with Arthur brought that thought into sharp focus for Merlin and he frowned.

“Always. But you should go. If you’re caught like this you’ll be in trouble. And so will I.” He looked down at his feet. “People might think I’m valueless.” At Arthur’s confused face Merlin backtracked and shook his head. “Not from being with you! I mean…” He slapped his forehead. “That was dumb.” Gesturing to the door he said, “I’ll explain after the ceremony. You should go first.”

Arthur nodded and said, “I’ll come find you tonight after the feast,” before slipping out of the closet. Merlin slumped against the door once it closed again and counted to twenty. With his breath regained and his knees strengthened he slipped out the door.

He made his way to the large reception hall doors and into the arms of a waiting Gaius. “There you are! Come on, come on! Time to present yourself.” He hugged Merlin quickly and kissed his cheek. “I’m so proud of you.”

And then the doors swung inward and a few courtiers entered the reception room and took their places in the crowd to await Merlin’s pledge. Side by side, Gaius and Merlin entered. While they walked the length of the room Merlin’s eyes skipped across the crowd and saw several familiar faces, knights and lords and ladies of court and servants alike, before they finally settled on Arthur. Everyone’s eyes were on him and Gaius, which is why only Merlin saw Arthur give him a private smile and a discreet thumbs up and Merlin began to smile.

They stopped at the foot of the dais and both bowed. King Uther stood and addressed the crowd. “Today we have the fortune to welcome, officially, two members to court. The first stands before us.” He looked at Merlin, a smile stretching his face that suggested he didn’t remember the event in the courtyard those years before, and addressed him. “Merlin. You come to us this day to pledge yourself to a life of service to the realm in the form of a courtesan. Who is your sponsor?”

“I am, Your Majesty,” Gaius replied, voice even but full of pride. 

Uther spoke to Merlin. “Do you pledge loyalty to House Pendragon and all the members of this great city and it’s court.”

“I do,” Merlin responded soberly.

“Do you promise to live by the rules of this court and to do all you can to appease the members of this court?”

“I do.”

“Then from this day on you will learn your craft until your debut. On your sixteenth birthday a celebration will be held in your honor, yours and that of any other graduating adepts. We look forward to many years of loyal service from you, Merlin, and welcome you into the arms of the court.” Applause erupted from the hall. Merlin and Gaius bowed and stepped to the side to join Freya on the side of the hall and Uther motioned for silence after a moment.

“And now for the big reason why we are all here. As you know, my dear wife and your Queen, Lady Ygraine,” he paused and smiled fondly on the Queen who smiled back weak and sadly, “has been ill for many years. Unfortunately, despite our physician's best efforts, she can bear no more heirs. While my own son, Arthur, is strong and healthy now nothing in life is for certain.” He paused and took measure of the crowd’s silence. “Therefore I have decided to appoint a royal consort.” He gestured to the doors where a beautiful young woman appeared.

She had rich, red hair and piercing blue eyes that seemed almost otherworldly. Her beauty elicited gasps from the crowd that were quickly stifled. At some signal from Uther she walked the length of the room and climbed the dias. Taking the King’s outstretched hand she faced the crowd. “May I present the Lady Nimueh of Mere. A woman who has come from a long line of ancient rulers in lands from afar, come to live here in the heart of Camelot. She is to be treated as a member of the royal family. Though Arthur will remain my recognized heir and will succeed me, any children she bears are to be recognized as my own as though they were borne of my own dear wife and will enter the line of succession.” He dropped Nimueh’s hand and kissed her cheek and beckoned for Ygraine to stand and join him and Nimueh at the front of the dais. “To Camelot!”

“To Camelot,” the crowd cheered loudly. Much applause accompanied the announcement alongside many confused and skeptical glances among them. Even Gaius, who rarely voiced an opinion unsolicited in public whispered discreetly to Merlin, “rather sudden, isn’t it?”

“Let the celebrating begin!” The royal family proceeded out of the receiving hall, Uther holding a hand of Ygraine’s and Nimueh’s in his own on their side of him with Arthur and Morgana following behind, and into the banquet hall. The rest of the court followed and merriment was made all night long.

The wine flowed, food was abundant, and laughing and smiling was seen and heard everywhere. After a lengthy dinner of many courses there was a reading of poetry from Lady Morgana, a mock spar between Arthur and Lancelot to show off the young Prince’s skills, and then finally Vivianne sang a set of beautiful songs of love and accompanied herself on her harp. After the exhibition in Nimueh’s honor the floor was opened to the court and music played for everyone to dance and mingle freely.

Strange to see, and yet not unexpected, was the sight of Uther and Nimueh dancing on the floor together. Uther had rarely danced while Ygraine had the strength before Arthur’s birth and not once since she had stopped such spirited activity. Yet here he was, dancing with all the gaiety of a youth twenty years his junior, as if he were under a spell. But that was the way of newly blossomed love, wasn’t it? One does what they can to make the object of their affections smile. And while Lady Nimueh was smiling and laughing at the King’s two left feet on the dance floor Lady Ygraine watched with a strained face. It seemed that this new arrangement was not as welcomed by her as it was by Uther. But, in spite of a well concealed apprehension from the court, everyone carried on as if there was nothing new and were happy to dance the night away. Merlin had loved to dance but since he could not dance with the one he wanted he watched the other couples instead.

It was while watching Freya dance with a knight newly come to court that he was introduced to a woman who would interview for the position of his tutor; Cecile Perrin. She was an older woman near to Gaius’s age and explained that she had taught the art of pleasure to many young courtesans in courts since she had made her marque. She had told Merlin all about her life as a young courtesan in Brittany and how her marque was that of a giant thistle, the sigil of the royal pleasure house from which she learned her skills. Once freed from her obligations to her house she visited several palaces in her youth, working as she pleased with courtiers and teaching young men and women the art of pleasure. Merlin liked her immediately.

After a lengthy discussion she asked to see how graceful he was and asked him for a dance. He accepted and led her onto the dance floor. The dance was enjoyable and the woman still moved with a gentle grace despite her age. When it ended and Merlin led her from the dance floor she complimented him. “For one who looks as if he is all knees and elbows you move with a perfect grace. Who was your teacher?”

“Vivianne the Harpist, Lady Perrin.” “Extraordinary.” She leaned in close, caressed his cheek and whispered, “Oh, dear. Dear Gaius was not lying. You are a true _anguisette_.” Then she smiled and patted his cheek before leaning back, “You will be fun to teach, I think.” Merlin blushed at the attention. Later he would tell Gaius that there was no need for more applicants. He wanted Cecile to teach him all she knew.

The night wore on and just after midnight the royal family departed. Arthur caught Merlin’s eye and Merlin feigned a deep yawn and stretched. “Oh gods, I’m tired.”

“I should think you would be,” Gaius replied. “Would you like to be excused?”

“If it wouldn’t be terribly rude.”

“Not at all, my boy.” Gaius patted the boy on the back and smiled fondly. “I will send Freya along to join you soon enough, once she’s done with her dancing with a particular knight.” He pointed across the room to where his foster sister danced, a huge smile on her face. “His name is Knight Valiant, Vincent Valiant, I believe. She has not had another partner all evening and I dare say she might be enamored.” He smiled at the pair. “I’m so happy to see my young proteges so well stationed and content.” Turning his smile onto Merlin he shooed him with his hands. “Get yourself to bed. Been a long day. I’ll be along in a couple hours. We’ll discuss Cecile’s appointment in the morning.” Merlin kissed his foster father’s cheek and bounded out of the ballroom and, walking quickly, made his way to his apartments to where he knew Arthur would be waiting.

Merlin took a deep breath before entering his apartments, steeling himself before enclosing himself in a room alone with Arthur again. Opening the door he slipped inside and saw Arthur waiting for him in dim candlelight, two glasses of wine sitting on the table. He chuckled. “Didn’t get enough wine at the feast tonight?”

Arthur shrugged and handed a glass to Merlin. “This is from my father’s private stock. Much better than the swill they’re serving in the hall. Thought you’d appreciate a taste.”

Merlin accepted the glass and took a sip. It was richly fruity, grapes mixed with blackberries and smooth across his tongue. Intoxicating. A soft moan of appreciation came unbidden from his mouth, bringing embarrassed pink to his cheeks. Arthur chuckled softly.

“See, told you it was good.”

“Indeed it is.” His heavily lidded eyes focused on the rim of his glass. “May I inquire as to the occasion?”

Arthur took a sip before replying. “Sort of a ‘Welcome to the Club’ gift. What are friends for?”

They sipped their wine in silence, tension growing between them. At least, Merlin felt tension. It was unclear as to whether or not the Prince had noticed Merlin’s growing nervousness. His body grew hot in his presence and the addition of the wine, atop all the other wine he had drunk that evening, was making it very difficult for him to keep his thoughts platonic.

Arthur set his glass on the table and opened his mouth to speak. He got Merlin’s name out before the door swung open and Freya joined the boys in the candlelight.

“Merlin, I’ve had the most amazing time!” Then she noticed the Prince and she stopped short. “Oh, your Majesty!” She curtsied and bowed her head. “We weren’t expecting you.”

Merlin felt a measure of guilt. He had never mentioned the depth of his friendship with, his affection for, the Prince to Freya. As far as he was aware it was a secret known to a select few. Now he wished sorely that he had told her. Wished he had told her so that there wasn’t this awkward meeting of civilian and sovereign in his home. He didn’t know what to say.

“Freya,” Arthur started. “Do not curtsy, Merlin was expecting me. We’re,” he paused and caught Merlin’s gaze. He smiled warmly and continued, “friends. We’re friends.”

Freya stood straight and gave Merlin a look of intrigue and Merlin’s look answered that he would tell all soon. He had always treasured their ability to communicate without words and now he was ever more thankful for it made him relax a little knowing he was understood. She nodded once at Merlin and dipped a short curtsy to the Prince, “Goodnight, my Lord. Merlin.” Without another word she went up the stairs to their room and closed the door.

Merlin watched Arthur toy with his glass. “You were about to say something?”

Arthur’s mouth opened and closed half a dozen times, about to say something before closing for a moment. He looked at Merlin directly and smiled a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes and said, “nothing important.” He put the glass on the table and walked the few feet that parted them to stand in front of Merlin. He put out a hand to shake Merlin’s hand then when the boy took it Arthur held it in his own for a moment before pulling him forward. Like the flower follows the sun, Merlin followed Arthur’s pull and then he was enveloped in the Prince’s strong arms. Startled by the action, it took a second for Merlin to reciprocate and put his arms around Arthur’s waist to hug him in return.

Arthur and he had grown and they were almost of an equal height. Merlin was a couple inches shorter than the Prince but he suspected that if he kept growing that he would eventually surpass him in height. But for now he was able to tuck his head ever so slightly into the crook of Arthur’s neck. Arthur turned his head so his lips barely brushed Merlin’s hair as he whispered, “Congratulations, Merlin. I hope you do well in your studies.”

Merlin gulped back a lump of emotion in his throat. He didn’t know how to react. They had never hugged like this before. Merlin never initiated any contact more intimate than a clap on the back and Arthur almost ever initiated contact. This was entirely unexpected. “Thank you,” was all he could manage in reply.

The hug eventually ended and Arthur stepped back. They eyed each other and Arthur tore his eyes from Merlin and gestured to the mostly full bottle of wine. “Please enjoy the rest. It’s my gift to you.” He nodded his head once and strode out the door. Merlin had to hold onto the table to stabilize himself.

Freya. He had to tell Freya.


	7. Chapter 7

Merlin crept up the stairs and peeked into the room he shared with Freya. She was wide awake, still in her dress clothes, waiting on him.

“Want to explain why the heir to the kingdom was in our common room?”

“Uhm-”

“The answer is you do. Why didn’t you tell me you were friends like this before, Merlin?” She squinted at him. “Just what kind of friends are you? What did I interrupt?”

Merlin shrugged, his arms wide. “I don’t know. I barely know what I feel, let alone Arthur.” He began to pace the room.

“So you use his given name, now?”

“He told me to.”

“When?”

“The day I took my whipping.” He paused his speech, running his fingers through his hair. “Remember when he came to visit me afterwards?” She nodded and he went on. “Well, we decided from then on we were friends. We’ve been meeting secretly, with the help of Lady Morgana and Lancelot, since then.” A sudden smile stole over him and his feet stilled. He whispered to the room rather than Freya, “he hugged me.”

“Does he always do that?”

He shook his head. “No.”

Freya sighed, understanding written on her face and in her breath. She came over and hugged Merlin. “You know you two can never be. Not for real.”

 _Damn her for knowing what I want most_ , he thought sullenly. He knew it all too well. Merlin hugged her tight in return and nodded. “I know.”

“Will you tell him how you feel?”

The thought of telling him was an awful mix of elation and anxiety. “I don’t know.”

They parted and readied themselves for bed and slipped beneath the covers of their beds. Freya soon slept but Merlin just stared at the ceiling, thoughts of what couldn’t be and what he wanted swirling in his head.

 

 

~*~

 

It was a week before Arthur and Merlin had a chance to be alone again. They had found each other in the stables while Lancelot kept watch for them. They stood together in a stall, freshly cleaned and shuffled awkwardly around each other.

“So-” they said in tandem. Quickly trying to recover Merlin gestured for Arthur to speak first, which he did without a second thought.

“Merlin, I’ve been thinking about some things-”

“Well don’t strain yourself too much,” Merlin joked back. He got a friendly punch to the shoulder for his troubles.

“I’m serious.” Arthur’s face, usually bright and happy when they were alone together, became one full of concern. “First question. What did you mean the night of the banquet when you said that you being caught with me might make you seem valueless?”

 _Shit._ He had hoped that Arthur would forgot his verbal slip. He licked his dry lips and said, “Well...when a courtesan is ready to receive patrons for the first time there’s sort of an auction.”

“An auction for what?”

 _Could the Prince be that naive? Could he really not know anything?_ “For what else? My virgin price.” At Arthur’s confused silence he put it bluntly. “People will bid to fuck me for the first time. To buy my virginity.”

“But,” Arthur seemed taken aback. “I mean I know that you’re to please people for a living but your first time should be with someone you love. Even for a courtesan.”

 _Ah. His mother has been teaching him about the facts of life._ He supposed he should be grateful he hadn’t gotten that particular lesson from Uther. He doubted Uther was so sentimental. Thankfully with Ygraine's influence he was a far cry from the young boy who berated him for being a whore. “Ideally, yes,” he replied. “But I’m a bit of a special case.” He laughed, “or not so special. Whores are a dime a dozen, right?” He hated using the word whore. Whore had so many awful, dirty connotations. He was a courtesan and would be a well respected one when he completed his training. Even if some people would be unable to see past the fact he would be making a living on his back, his station would garner respect. No use hiding from the names and no use skirting around it for the Prince’s apparently delicate sensibilities.

“You are special, Merlin.” Merlin’s mouth went dry. Arthur grabbed his shoulders, his hands already so strong for one so young. “You are special to me. Always have been. Who else would take a whipping for me?” He grinned trying for levity. He stepped back, his hands falling from Merlin’s shoulders as he leaned against the stall wall behind him and Merlin was grateful for the break in severity.

Merlin licked his lips and swallowed. “You had another question?” Arthur seemed thrown, nervous. He said softly, “ask whatever you like, Arthur. I promise to answer truthfully.”

The Prince seemed to gather his resolve and spoke. “Have you ever kissed anyone?”

He hadn’t. He wasn’t supposed to go round practicing things with anyone. But what if Arthur wanted to kiss him? He had promised to tell the truth, though he was unsure of what kind of response he would get from Arthur. “No. I haven’t. Viviane said I was too young to be practicing.” He added quickly, “Though now that I’m pledged that sentiment might very well have changed.” It was an opening as wide as the gates of Camelot and he knew it.

Arthur toyed with his fingers. This shyness was incredibly unusual and Merlin couldn’t fathom why he was acting so. Arthur finally asked him, “Is there anyone you might consider practicing with?”

How could he have missed it? He spent his entire childhood learning to read people and attraction was one of the first he had mastered, thanks to his particular alignment. Arthur liked him back. His heart fluttered and he felt like he could fly. Taking this new information into action slowly he took a step closer to Arthur, their toes touching just like they had when they first met. “At the moment there’s only one person I’d consider.” He stood and waited for Arthur to respond, hoping he didn’t misinterpret Arthur or make him feel obligated to anything.

“I see.” Arthur stared at their shoes. “Anyone I know?”

Merlin smiled. “Oh, yes.” When Arthur’s head shot up in hurt surprise Merlin laughed. “It’s you, you big clothead.”

Arthur’s smile could have lit up a thousand rooms. His mother was right. He was the sun. He was the sun, moon and stars. He was Merlin’s whole sky. He felt that he could die now and be happy. Arthur remained leaning against the stall and Merlin couldn’t stop himself. “Well what are you waiting for, you great git? Kiss me. I know you want to.”

Arthur’s smile turned from happy and playful to fierce and in a heartbeat he had leaned forward and grabbed the back of Merlin’s head and tipped it up for Arthur’s lips to crush against them. For all their inexperience, it was sweet. Charged but innocent, their first kiss was nothing more than a hard press of closed lips. And yet even that little bit of pressure made Merlin’s knees weak. Arthur pulled back a fraction and they looked each into each other’s eyes, both finding something that wasn’t clear to either of them before; mutual attraction and need.

Their second kiss was less chaste.

Arthur leaned in again and this time Merlin opened beneath the gentle flick of Arthur’s tongue. While Arthur’s tongue invaded Merlin’s mouth, making him moan deeply, his hands had wandered. One had found it’s way into Merlin’s hair while the other had snaked around his waist to pull them together. Step by step, Arthur guided Merlin to the stall wall behind him and then there was Arthur’s body holding him against it, keeping him from melting into a puddle at the Prince’s feet. He never wanted it to end.

So of course it had to.

A loud cough startled them apart. “Your Highness,” Lancelot said, his face red but looking reluctant to interrupt. “I hate to be the bearer of bad news but it seems that your father is on his way to run his horse. We better make ourselves scarce.”

“Thank you, Lancelot. I’ll be along in a moment.” Waving off his guard he returned his attention to Merlin. His eyes were sad. “You know that we can never be together forever, right?”

Merlin’s happiness was shattered at the reminder and he was sure his face betrayed his inner anguish. For one blissful moment he had forgotten their stations. But Arthur was right. And yet he didn’t want to give this up for anything in the world so he said, “We can’t have forever.” He searched the Prince’s eyes, desperately hoping. “But we can have today, can’t we?”

“Yes,” Arthur breathed immediately. “We can have today and as many tomorrows as we can make.” He kissed him once more, quick and soft before ducking out of their stall to rejoin Lancelot. “Till tomorrow, Merlin,” he heard before the Prince had made his way out of the stables.

Merlin couldn’t remember a time since he met Gaius that his happiness had rivaled his sadness.


	8. Chapter 8

The same week that Merlin experienced his first kiss Cecile Perrin moved into the castle, into the apartments across from his family, to act as Merlin’s private tutor.

His lessons started simple enough. There was an indepth study of the anatomy for both men and women and the various way one can stimulate arousal. At first Merlin blushed viciously and Cecile would giggle, unused to teaching someone as naive as he was at his age. It was a short lived novelty, however, and soon Merlin began to ask questions and make observations in earnest. Along with the study of the body there came other more practical lessons during that week. Lessons on how to groom appropriately and how to don a look of pure seduction that would pull any prospective client into his arms.

Then there was a whole day spent on herbs and their uses during sex and foreplay. Merlin learned alternative uses for mint and discovered yohimbe root and it’s clever uses.There was even a lesson on how to prevent pregnancy. Gaius had Freya join this particular lesson as well. While he trusted both his students to be careful and safe there was no accounting for other people. Merlin’s take away was fairly straightforward and simple; try not to spill your seed inside a woman or, failing that, making sure they took a special herbal potion beforehand. But Freya’s was more enhanced. Cecile showed them both how to brew a tea that would encourage a womb to expel a forming child. Freya was greatly interested as this lesson was relevant to her current studies but returned to her own studies after Cecile was satisfied the instructions stuck in both their minds.

The first month of study with Cecile, mixed with his growing attachment to the young prince, soon gave him all sorts of ideas about what the future might hold for the pair. He often caught himself daydreaming of putting his mouth on places that were not Arthur’s lips. Dragging himself from those fantasies was difficult but he had more than enough to occupy his mind with.

Six months flew by. Winter came sweeping through Camelot and froze everyone to the bones. Arthur and Merlin had kissed autumn away, rarely getting more handsy than some over the clothes groping, both unwilling to take things too far too soon. But despite their limitations in class and schedule they managed to see each other, even if for a few moments, at least once a week. During those stolen moments they shared their new knowledge from that day’s studies and left each other with swollen lips and shining eyes.

The first challenge of their fragile relationship came on the coattails of a particular violent storm. While the wind chased most people inside there was one person who prowled the streets of Camelot snatching people from the thinned streets and turning them into human ice sculptures.

The first of the awful tableaus was an old woman who was found completely encased in ice and cowering from some unseen force. The thickness and temperature of the ice, much colder than seemed possible, was a sure sign of magic. Before the week was out the rogue wizard froze two children, a prominent blacksmith and then finally a knight of Camelot. By the time the guard had been found, frozen to the gatehouse he was guarding, the search for the culprit was already frantic. Merlin and Freya watched nervously with the Royal household from the windows while guards flooded the city’s streets and began searching homes. While the guards searched, Merlin and Freya remained close to one another. They couldn’t believe, had never witnessed, that one of their kin was capable of such cruelty. Often drawing strength through clasped hands and bending their heads toward each other in silent reflection, they tried to continue on with life as normal.

The guards finally found the rogue wizard hiding in the water coffers beneath the city. He was attempting to freeze their entire water supply and cut them off for the whole winter. He was stopped before he could finish his incantation and was brought before the eyes of the court. All during the trial he refused to answer Uther’s questions of who he was, where he had come from and who he was working for. All he would say is that he was trying to freeze the plague upon the earth. After hours of interrogation it was determined they would get no other information from him and he was condemned to death. It was not enough that he had killed several people. In Uther’s mind it was a larger crime to be a sorcerer; the murders were just another tally on the board that cemented Uther’s ideals on magic. Uther ordered him to be put to the flames and Merlin felt a pang of sympathy despite the man’s actions.

The day of the execution brought hundreds to the stake that held the rogue wizard. The mother of the two children who had been frozen came forward and spit in the man’s face, cursing his existence and every drop of malicious magic he had. Merlin flinched automatically upon hearing her cursing but he understood. How could he ask anything different from a woman whose only children had been ripped from her?

As Uther approached the condemned, flaming torch in hand, Merlin scanned the dais where the high royals and Royal family were supposed to have been placed. What Merlin noticed is that while Arthur had taken his accustomed position, Ygraine, Morgana and Nimueh were absent. The young wizard wasn’t sure what that meant when regarding Nimueh but he thought that perhaps Morgana was ill. She had been plagued by nightmares and Gaius had been doing his best to give her draughts that would grant her dreamless sleep. Maybe the endless cold had given her worse nightmares and she was unable to leave her bed. Filled with concern over his missing friend he missed Uther’s speech entirely but saw the moment the flames licked the stacks of wood that encircled the rogue wizard.

Out of madness, or out of spite, the man didn’t move or utter a word of complaint until it had become apparent, through the stench of burning flesh, that the fire had consumed his feet. Then he screamed endlessly, not words of pleading or contrition, but curses against the Royal family and all of Camelot.

By the times the flames had taken over his torso Merlin could bear no more and neither could Freya. They shuffled their way to the doors that would lead them to their wing of the palace. Before ducking inside Merlin looked back at the woman whose children had been lost and saw her kneeling before the flames, tears sliding down her face and catching in the corners of her angry smile.

Hours later Merlin could still smell the acrid stench of burning flesh. He could see the thrashing and hear the screams whenever he closed his eyes. The man had certainly deserved his death. He had taken a life. Many lives. He had misused magic and that was unforgivable. That did not mean that Merlin had the stomach to watch suffering, no matter how deserved it was.

He lay on his bed while his mind raced with thoughts of torture, abuse, and the suffering he had witnessed and that made him wonder how he would deal with being inflicted with pain by others. He knew now he would not be able to extend pain, willingly at least, on anyone else. That much was certain. But how would he behave when someone struck him with a crop or whip? Would he cry out in pleasure or solely in pain? Fear or ecstasy? Would it be all of the above? Would he like it? The idea seemed so unreal given his inexperience. There was the one prick of a pin and the lashes he received when he was only a young child. Not enough data to form an opinion, especially since his body had already begun the changes of young adulthood. Maybe he could get Gwaine to test things on him. He trusted Gwaine with his life and he highly doubted Arthur had the stomach for such activities.

As his thoughts turned from the execution to thoughts of a totally different fire, one in a roaring fireplace besides which a gloriously naked prince might lay upon furs, he heard a knock at his door.

“Come in,” he called. The door creaked open and Merlin moved his gaze from the ceiling to the door and saw Arthur standing there. Rather than stand to greet him, Merlin moved to sit up and watched as the prince walked across the room and sat across from him on Freya’s bed. Silence took up the space between them for several long moments. Then Arthur cleared his throat and spoke.

“You the execution left early.”

Merlin nodded. “I have no stomach for torture, it seems.”

Arthur looked at him grimly. “He was a sorcerer, Merlin. A rogue wizard. He deserved to die.”

“I agree.” Merlin paused and licked his dry lips. “He deserved to die for the lives he took. He didn’t deserve to be tortured to death.” He looked down at his hands. “No one does.”

Arthur looked like he wanted to argue but he saw that the subject distressed Merlin and so he didn’t press. He simply crossed the room and made Merlin scoot over on the bed to make room for him. He drew Merlin into his arms and laid the younger boy’s head to his chest. This was the first time they had been able to be as close, as intimate. Merlin reveled in the closeness and inhaled deeply the scent of Arthur and sighed.

His slowly gathering peace was interrupted by Arthur opening his mouth again. “You know that all magic is evil. Right, Merlin.” It wasn’t a question. It was a statement that he demanded a response to. Being still young and in love Merlin voiced his real opinion.

“I believe that, just like with everything else, there is a good and bad side to magic. People can have magic and be good just like a person could be a good warrior or an evil one.”

“But magic corrupts,” Arthur countered.

“Power corrupts,” Merlin stated flatly. “Power can corrupt in any form.” He lifted his head from Arthur’s chest and looked at him openly. He wanted to badly to show him that magic could be good. That magic could grow the flowers and crops, could remove toxins from water, could heal deadly illness. Just like water can nourish the fields or gouge lasting scars in rock, like fire could warm a home and cook food but also destroy a forest or village in moments, magic had a balance. He swallowed thickly and came as close as he dared, unsure of what the reaction to his question would be.

“What if you knew someone, a person you knew to be good, who had magic?”

Arthur’s eyes went wide momentarily then became hard like stone. For the first time since their first meeting he saw the resemblance to Uther in him and was suddenly afraid. “Do you have magic, Merlin?”

“Of course not!” He hated lying to save his skin, lying to someone he was so fond of, but it was for the best really. He knew Arthur’s upbringing and it was stupid and reckless to think that Arthur would have any softness for magic. “You know me! You know lying is not my strong suit.” While that was very true he found he could lie very convincingly when it meant his head.

Arthur’s gaze softened and he let out a shaky breath. “Thank gods.” He drew Merlin down to him again, replacing his head on his chest and kissed the top of his head. “I don’t know what I’d think. I don’t think such a person exists.”

Merlin fought off tears of disappointment and remained silent. They stayed that way, laying against one another, for a couple hours, watching the room grow steadily darker. When their limbs began to ache with stiffness they shifted and rose, shaking the tightness from their cramped legs. Arthur said that he had to be getting back but before he did Merlin asked after Morgana.

“She was very odd this morning. Said that she had a dream that seemed real to her when she woke this morning and refused to get out of bed.” Merlin didn’t know what to think and then Arthur added, “And Nimueh flat out refused to attend saying that she abhorred executions of any kind and that she might be with child. Said any upset in her demeanor might make her miscarry.” Arthur frowned angrily. “Not that I’d mind another brother or sister but I don’t like that woman overmuch.”

Merlin didn’t get the chance to ask more before Arthur kissed him briefly and said his farewells before gliding out the door and into the hallway that led out of Merlin’s wing of the palace.


	9. Chapter 9

“I really don’t see why you would want to bring Morgana her medicine, Merlin.” Gaius eyed the boy suspiciously. “Why would you want to visit the King’s ward while she was unwell?”

“Because,” Merlin paused, stalling. He tried to stick as close to the truth as possible. “Because I might observe something you don’t.”

“And what do you think you’ll find that I haven’t found?” To Merlin’s relief, Gaius didn’t sound angry or insulted only amused. He seemed to think it was a game that Merlin created, though he wasn’t sure of the end goal.

In actuality, Merlin had a suspicion that Morgana was something special. He hadn’t voiced this opinion to Gaius because he thought the wizard who practiced medicine beside magic would have recognized the signs of a seer. After talking with Gwen, Morgana’s new handmaiden, it seemed that every night the poor girl thrashed and whimpered in her sleep. Often times Gwen would have to stay with Morgana and hold her while she slept so that Morgana would not collapse from extreme exhaustion the next day. She woke almost every morning sweating and scared but she rarely told Gwen of what she dreamed. And when she did Gwen was sorry she asked. Gwen said that there were nights the girl refused to sleep and on those nights she just perched in her window and stared at the night sky.

Merlin had done some digging. He had searched through some tomes that Gaius was able to squirrel away, gods knows how, during the Great Magic Purge and found in one book a whole chapter dedicated to seers and future reading. There were many myths surrounding their origin but something that seemed to be the most commonly true was that they could see future events in their dreams. Through dreams and, sometimes trying to contact a god through meditation, one could possibly see the future and try to determine the course of fate. But Merlin couldn’t know for sure unless he spoke to Morgana.

Gaius smirked and just said, “Go then. See if you can find something.” He handed Merlin Morgana’s sleeping draught and turned back to his table to ready the rest of his potion deliveries for the day. “Let me know if you find anything.”

Merlin thanked him and took himself to the Royal Apartments. When he got to Morgana’s door he showed the guards the potion and said that Gaius was going to be delayed so he came instead. The guards opened the doors for him and Merlin entered the bedroom.

He found Morgana perched in her window watching the courtyard below. Not wanting to scare her he announced himself. “Lady Morgana?”

She turned her head sleepily to him and greeted him. “Morning, Merlin. Where’s Gaius?”

“He was delayed this morning. Lots of people to see. I said I would stop by to see you and bring you tonight’s draught.”

He walked to her and extended the draught and she accepted it. She frowned at it and twirled the bottle in her hands. “Why doesn’t it work?” She looked at him with glassy, tired eyes. “Why won’t it make the dreams stop?”

Merlin felt terribly for her. Sleep was supposed to be a refuge, a way to refresh. It was a comfort denied to her and he hoped that he could determine for sure his suspicions and find a way to help her. “I don’t know.” He answered honestly. “Gaius has been tweaking the recipe a little bit here and there to see if there’s anything he can do to try to make the potion more effective.” That much was true. “He asked me to ask what your dreams were about so that he might try to find an herb or root more specific to help you.” That part was not true.

Her eyes widened in fear and she shook her head. “I- I can’t. It’s too awful-”

Tears collected in her eyes and she shook with fear. Her fingers trembled so much that she dropped the vial in her hands and luckily Merlin caught it before it smashed on the ground. He took her hand and guided her out of the window and back into her bed out of fear that she would shake so hard she would fall out the window.

“Please Morgana,” he implored softly. “Gaius and Freya can help you but they need to know what you dream of to do so.” Her hand still in his own, he ran his thumb over her knuckles to try and convey his sincerity in what he hoped was a comforting manner. “I promise, if I can keep any of the details out I will keep them between us.” He thought of the book he had read and continued. “Some dreams mean certain things. Perhaps there’s something that we’ve yet to try.”

A tear slid down her cheek and she hiccuped back a sob. She was silent for several minutes and he feared that she would never tell him. But then she seemed to calm some and reach a decision. “I dreamt,” her words came out shaky and hesitant. “I dreamt of Camelot in flames.” Her eyes seemed to replay the scene in her mind, her gaze distant and frightened. “I dreamt that Uther and Ygraine were dead. I dreamt of Arthur covered in flames. I dreamt that the dragon escaped and destroyed all of Camelot.”

The dragon captured his attention immediately but he shook it off for a detail that was missing. A blank spot in her retelling. “Where was Nimueh?"

She turned her unblinking gaze to him and the still, ashen face scared him. “She was laughing.” Two tears slid in tandem down her cheek, so beautifully like a painting, and she said more firmly, “she was laughing.”

 

~*~

 

All the way back Merlin didn’t know what to think.

_She had dreamed the destruction of Camelot. She had dreamt of the dragon, of it’s escape. How did she know it was there when most of Camelot didn’t know of its existence in the first place? Why would Nimueh laugh at the destruction of Camelot? Where did she come from anyway? Why did Arthur dislike her, so?_

His brain hurt but his suspicions seemed to be fact. It looked like Morgana was a seer and he would need Gaius’s help if he were to help Morgana. Clearly they would have to tell her. It would be scary at first, being so close to the Royal Family and having magic. But if he and Freya could do it then she could too, couldn’t she?

When he returned home he retold the event to Gaius. He left out the bit about Nimueh until he could find more context for the reason why Nimueh might hold a dubious spot in Morgana’s mind. The old physician didn’t do much of anything at first; just crossed his arms and tapped his lips in thought. He began to pace and Merlin sat and watched and hoped that Gaius would figure out a way to help her.

Finally the silence proved too much to bear. “We’re going to help her, right Gaius?”

“Of course we are,” Gaius said calmly.

“How are we going to tell her? She’ll be scared at first but she has to know.”

Gaius’s response shocked him. “No.”

“No?”

“That’s what I said.”

Merlin shook his head in disbelief. “But Gaius-”

“It’s too dangerous for her. For someone so close to the King to be revealed with magic would be catastrophic.” Gaius’s tone was even and calm. He didn’t seem to be troubled one bit by Morgana’s gift or his decision to keep her in the dark.

“But she’s terrified! She has no idea!” Merlin shouted at his foster father, “We’ve got to help her!”

“Keep your voice down,” the physician hissed in reply. “The walls often have eyes and ears.” He cast a cursory glance around the room, as if searching for the watchers he feared might be listening in. He sighed deeply and sat in his chair. “If we tell Morgana there is no telling what might occur.”

“But Freya and I-”

“Freya and you are not in the Royal Family,” Gaius interrupted. “Whatever happens with you or Freya with magic there will always be a chance that I might be able to help you. You’re under my care. I’ve taught you from childhood how to control your magic. To teach her to unleash and then contain her magic now, at her age,” Gaius frowned and shook his head sadly. “Any number of things could happen and she could be discovered.” He rose and took the boy’s head in his hands. “It’s too dangerous to tell her anything while she still lives in Camelot.”

Merlin’s anger simmered. How could Gaius expect him to do nothing? He asked Gaius that very question. “I don’t expect you to do nothing, Merlin.”

“Then what are we to do to help her?”

Gaius walked over to his chest and started pulling things out. When it was empty Merlin heard a latch click and a fake bottom was pulled out. He peered over and saw that there were three books lining the bottom of the chest. One’s title was written in a language he couldn’t understand with a blank cover, the next had a faded pink flower blooming across the cover and the last had a large black dragon and the word _“Dragorn”_ written on the cover.

“Wait,” he put an arm on Gaius’s shoulder. He reached in and lifted the book from the chest and stared at the cover. “Is this…”

“A book on dragonlore? Yes.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because the dragon has not called you yet.” He looked at the book with a look of resigned sadness. “Believe me, the less physical magical content in your possession, the better. I give you what you need when you need it and not a moment before.” He gently took the book from the boy’s hands. “It’s safer that way.”

Gaius laid the book back in it’s place and picked up the book with the flower on it and replaced the false bottom. He took it to his work table and started leafing through the pages. “This book,” he started explaining, “is full of ways that one can use to sabotage another sorcerer. It’s very dangerous.”

“Then why do you have it?”

“Because sometimes it’s necessary.”He found the page he was looking for and sighed in relief. “This is how we help Morgana.” He pointed to the words on the page and Merlin read them. He gasped and covered his mouth.

“It’s a binding spell,” Gaius said softly. “It will make it so that her magic will be suppressed in her subconscious. Since she’s a seer that means she will have no more dreams and then she can sleep peacefully.” He started mixing his potion and said, more to himself it seemed than to Merlin, “It’s the best way we can help her now.”

A few hours later Merlin was with Gaius when they delivered the potion that would seal Morgana’s magic inside her. He still didn’t agree with Gaius that this was the best decision but he held his tongue. He had learned by now that sometimes it was best to be silent. He had time. He could find a better way to help her and then maybe one day she would be free to learn about her gift in the future. It was the only thought that kept him silent.

“Merlin told me a little of what you’ve been dreaming. Is it a recurring dream?”

Morgana nodded. “Sometimes I dream of other terrible things but this one is the worst.” She took the potion from Gaius and placed it on her nightstand. “Will this one work?”

“I think this might be the one that works. I’ll be by in the morning to see if the potion has any effect. I suggest you go to bed early tonight. There is a powerful sedative in it that we haven’t yet tried and it might make you dizzy since you have been without restful sleep for so long.”

Morgana nodded and thinly whispered, “Thank you.”

Gaius inclined his head and bowed. Merlin copied the action and they both left her alone with her frightening visions.

 

~*~

 

The next morning Merlin and Freya both accompanied Gaius to Morgana’s chambers to see how the potion took effect. Both Merlin and Gaius thought it best not to tell Freya of Morgana’s gift. Gaius found it practical; the less that others knew the better. Merlin thought it was best because if they weren’t able to teach her anything then there was no reason to inform Freya. He figured if it became relevant to treating Morgana later that Gaius would tell her.

When they entered her bed chamber it was as if Morgana was a completely different person. She was smiling and bright eyed and Merlin had second thoughts about his stance on the subject. Pushing all thoughts aside he observed his friend.

“You look much better this morning, Lady Morgana,” Gaius greeted.

“I feel much better this morning." She threw her arms around Gaius and nearly knocked him from his feet. “I haven’t felt this good in ages!”

“I am very happy to hear that.” He held her briefly then released her. “I think we have finally settled on something that works for you. No residual dizziness? No nausea?” She shook her head and he smiled. “Then I think we’ll keep up the regimen. I’ll relay the instructions and Freya will start preparing a draught for you daily.”

“Thank you, Gaius. Really.” She clasped her hands and covered her smile, giggling. “I had forgotten what it was like to sleep restfully. I never want to be without your draughts.”

“No fear of that, my Lady.” With that they all made their farewells and left the room. They caught Gwen on the way out and Gaius told the handmaid of the new regimen and to alert them if anything new were to develop. The three of them finished their rounds and Merlin shoved down the feeling that, even though Morgana was so happy, that they might have made a mistake in keeping the knowledge of her gift from her.


	10. Chapter 10

Soon the winter thawed into spring. Arthur and Merlin still sought each other’s company, Gaius’s two foster children worked daily toward their future careers, Morgana slept peacefully. All seemed well. As the snows ended, with spring right around the corner, there came an announcement that sent the whole castle into a flurry of excitement.

The King was ecstatic and the Queen melancholic. Nimueh had announced herself pregnant and indeed with the coming of spring her belly supported her declaration. Many in the kingdom rejoiced for the thought of a new royal babe while a quiet few weeped in silent sympathy for Queen Ygraine. As Nimueh’s belly grew more pronounced the Queen’s happiness dwindled. She took to her bed more often and though she refused to tell anyone why she had become so withdrawn everyone knew. It didn’t take a seer to know sad envy when they saw it.

Uther seemed to be oblivious of his wife’s condition, so enamored as he was with the prospect of the possibility of a strapping new son or a lovely daughter of his own. Gaius and Arthur, however, became extremely worried and made daily checks on her and tried to raise her spirits. Nothing they did seemed to help and they were at a loss.

By the fourth moon into Nimueh’s pregnancy it seemed as if the whole castle had become divided; those happy for the new baby and those not so happy. No one would flat out say they wouldn’t welcome a new heir but there were strong opinions that maybe Uther should be more delicate and understanding with Ygraine’s despair. Morgana seemed to be the only one who had no opinion one way or the other and spent time just as easily in Ygraine’s company as she did Nimueh’s. It was through her that Merlin learned of the Royal Family’s combined feelings on the Royal Consort.

“Uther is absolutely smitten with her,” she told Merlin one morning while they happened to find each other in the royal gardens. “He is with her night and day watching her bloom into motherhood while Ygraine dissolves into despair.” She was quick to add, “though I’m sure it’s just because he’s so excited to have another child in his life. Arthur has turned out so wonderful that it is no trouble at all to imagine another boy just like him.”

“Could be a girl just like you,” Merlin suggested.

Morgana laughed. “I certainly hope not.” She turned her eyes to her feet and frowned. “A daughter of Uther’s would be loved unconditionally. I’m only loved so long as I smile and do as I’m told.” Then she picked her chin up and smiled at Merlin, “and hopefully a Pendragon daughter would have less nightmares in her time. Gods know, I’ve had more than enough for anyone.”

“Do you still get them?” Merlin’s feelings had fallen on the fence when it came to Morgana’s visions. On the one hand, her having dreams again would mean she would have to be informed of and taught to control her magic. On the other, not having them would mean she could sleep safe from terrifying visions. The more alert and happy she looked the less sure he was that telling her would’ve been the right course of action.

“Not anymore, thanks to Gaius.”

They walked in silence for a bit before Merlin asked, “How does Arthur feel about the new baby?”

Morgana’s silence didn’t surprise him. It was a delicate subject. It was for that reason that he had never asked Arthur himself. But still it seemed harmless enough to ask his foster sister. Eventually she answered, “He seems to be accepting of a younger brother or sister but he’s angry with Uther’s negligence with his mother.” Merlin nodded and she continued. “I don’t blame him for that. Who could? Who wouldn’t want happiness for their mother?”

“How does he feel about Nimueh?”

This time she answered immediately. “He doesn’t trust her.” Merlin’s questioning look urged her on. “Uther has never told anyone from whence she came and how he came to be acquainted with her. It’s as if she just appeared out of thin air one day.” She bent to examine a leaf on a shrub, “he thinks she’s hiding something and I’m inclined to agree. Though I highly doubt it’s anything as dubious as Arthur may think about her.”

Merlin let the rest of his questions about the family settle. He didn’t want to seem as if he was prying and he didn’t exactly want to be asked any of the questions he was asking in return. He didn’t really know how he felt about a new royal baby.

As fate would have it, he would never have to form a complete opinion on the subject. A week before the moon became full in the fifth month of Nimue’s pregnancy Gaius was roused from his sleep by a panicking house guard. Banging on the door woke the whole household and Gaius answered the door, groggy and in his dressing gown.

“Physician, come quick, “ the guard panted. “The royal consort is bleeding! She might be losing the baby!”

Gaius snapped into action and took Freya and his traveling bag of tools with him to the royal apartments. Merlin was left behind to pace the floors. Several hours later the two came back, weary and dirty from a night’s work and Merlin got to hear everything.

Nimueh had gone into an extremely early labor. Her body had miscarried the baby and Gaius was just barely able to save the consort herself. Mercifully, the baby had been stillborn so there were no weak screams, no beating heart. A small blessing in a way; no little babe to try and comfort while they were unable to help. It would have been a boy and Uther was furious. He screamed his displeasure and howled his pain in his hall alone. Gaius had been able to stop the bleeding and he did what he could to soothe Nimueh. While she rested Gaius and Freya took to bathing and changing from their filthy clothes and Gaius set to work on making medicines that would ease her physical aches, even if he could do nothing to soothe her emotional trauma.

“How’re the Queen and the Prince? Have they been informed?"

“They have,” Gaius said whilst preparing his salves and potions for the Consort. “The Prince has not made any opinions known but I heard the Queen cried upon hearing that the child had died.”

While the household was up in arms over the death of the babe Arthur and Merlin were able to meet. Arthur came to Merlin’s apartments and they stole up to his room to talk.

“I’m sorry about your little brother, Arthur.”

“Me too,” he responded quietly. Without needing to be asked Merlin pulled him down to the bed and gathered the Prince in his arms, their legs intertwining. He sighed and whispered, “I’m a horrible person, Merlin.”

That stunned the boy. How could Arthur ever be so? “Why would you say such a thing?”

“Because,” he swallowed thickly, seeming to be choked on his voice. “Because I wanted him to go away.” He clutched Merlin’s shirt in his hand and let the tears fall. “I wanted Nimueh to not have a child so that my father would stop ignoring my mother.” He shuddered and Merlin held him tighter. “It’s all my fault.”

Merlin’s heart ached. Princes were not supposed to cry. They were supposed to be strong, stoic, fearless, unapologetic. But here one was, crying as he was being held, wracked with undeserved guilt. “It’s not your fault,” he whispered into Arthur’s hair.

“How could it not be,” he cried. “He was my brother and I wished him dead!”

“You didn’t wish him dead, Arthur. You’re not heartless.” He smoothed the Prince’s hair trying to soothe him. “You wished that he didn’t draw all your father’s attention from the ailings of your mother. That is not selfish and it’s not your fault that Nimueh miscarried.” He lifted Arthur’s tear-stained face from his chest. “It is not your fault,” he repeated before pressing a soft kiss to the boy’s lips.

They were salty and trembling but Merlin didn’t care. They were Arthur’s and he needed to show him that he was not a horrible person. How could he ever care for someone who was horrible? He kissed each of Arthur’s wet eyelids, his forehead and then his lips again before pressing the Prince’s head back to his chest. For a long while he held him while Arthur quietly cried.

Merlin had begun thinking about shifting, his body stiff with inactivity, when Arthur moved on his own, stradling Merlin’s hips and kissing him in earnest. Merlin complied with the action, meeting Arthur’s ministrations with enthusiasm and letting him taking control. Arthur needed to feel control over something and, after all, that is what Merlin was being trained for, to be a conduit used by others, and he didn’t mind one bit that Arthur was trying to find comfort in him. The kiss became frantic and in his passion Arthur bit Merlin’s lip hard enough to draw blood. Merlin gasped and canted his hips upward.

During their previous explorations Merlin had never gotten more than half-hard, always mindful of how they needed to be discreet and their mutual need to take things slow. But with this rush of unexpected pain he went rigid in a second. His lip throbbed in pain while the rest of his body he hummed with pleasure. With one little act his body had been awakened and he needed more.

But with his movement and his loud gasp Arthur was startled. He drew his face back confused and then his eyes found the cut on Merlin’s lip. “Oh, Merlin! I’m so sorry!” He tried to get off of him but Merlin grabbed the Prince’s hips to still his movements.

“No, please,” Merlin whined. He pressed his hips into Arthur’s and they both groaned. “Don’t leave,” he panted.

“But your lip-”

“Do it again.”

“What?”

The Prince’s confused face did nothing to kill the desire coursing through him.“I’ll explain later,” Merlin promised. “But please,” he reached up to hold Arthur’s face, “do it again?” He shifted beneath him again and Arthur’s eyes fluttered closed with a groan and they were kissing again. In seconds Merlin’s lip was bit again and it was like an explosion had gone off inside him. His breath came faster and his nipples were incredibly hard. His cock throbbed with need and it was all he could do to keep from whining into Arthur’s mouth. When they moved Merlin could feel Arthur’s desire for him as well and he knew that if they didn’t stop soon they would be lost to their arousal.

He forced himself to slow, to direct their pace so that they eventually were no longer frantic. They boiled down to soft, lingering kisses and even breaths. His body still vibrated from its brief awakening but Merlin had to learn to master his body. Now was not the time for him to give over to his own desires.

They had shifted during their exercise and had ended up with Merlin flat on his back with the Prince poised above him. They had stopped kissing and Arthur had buried his head into Merlin’s neck, leaving Merlin’s fingers with free reign over his back and he took full advantage. He smoothed his fingertips up and down over the linen of Arthur’s shirt and the muscles of his back beneath it, brushed them across the back of his neck and disturbed the hair there. With the weight of Arthur above him he was content and he hoped that Arthur felt the same.

After so much silence the sound of Arthur’s voice startled him. “So what was that about?”

“Hmm,” Merlin hummed sleepily.

“Why did you ask me to bite you?”

“It felt good.”

“Biting felt good?” He lifted his head to look at Merlin. “But that must have hurt.”

“It did but it was,” he tried and failed to come up with an accurate description. “It was a good pain.” Then he was struck by something. “Don’t you know what I am?”

“A courtesan?”

“Also that but...you really don’t know?”

“Don’t know what?”

“I’m an _anguisette_.” When Arthur looked even more confused Merlin took pity on him. He pushed Arthur’s chest up so that they both could rise to sit and then he explained. He told him in bare terms, glossing over the magic part, what he was and what he was to do. When he finished Arthur looked pale.

“So people will hurt you?”

“Yes.”

“And they will enjoy your pain?”

“Yes.”

“But you’ll also enjoy it?”

“About sums it up.” He was quiet and Merlin was suddenly afraid of losing him. He knew that they wouldn’t last forever and he supposed it would be less painful to lose him before they really became entangled. He tensed, steeling himself for the end when Arthur spoke, “I don’t think I can do that to you, Merlin.”

Merlin nodded. “I expected that. And I would never ask you to.”

“But that’s what you want, isn’t it?”

“I know that I want you,” he replied softly. “I know that I have enjoyed everything we have done so far and will enjoy anything else you would want to do.” He looked down at his rumpled sheets and willed himself to be strong. “Just like I have a say in this, so do you and,” his voice faltered but he pressed on, “I’ll understand if what I am makes you uncomfortable.” He looked up at Arthur with glistening eyes, “I’ll never ask of you what you cannot give.”

He watched as this Prince seemed to come to a decision. “And if I never wanted to hurt you, do more than bite your lip or pull your hair?”

“Then I’ll be content,” he assured. “I only want what you want to give and nothing more.”

Arthur nodded and leaned to kiss Merlin’s red, swollen lips. It was gentle and Merlin relaxed into it. “Well, then,” Arthur whispered against Merlin’s lips, “I’ll guess you’ll have to be content with your patrons because you won’t catch me with a riding crop.”

They both giggled at that and Merlin hugged Arthur to him, relieved that their little affair had not ended. They still had time.


	11. Chapter 11

A few nights after Arthur awoke Merlin’s desire for pain he went to Gawaine. After losing his palace guard he ran to the Gwaine’s favorite tavern to ask his friend for a favor. After pulling Gwaine from the bustle of the tavern into the relative quiet of the street Merlin made his request.

Gwaine’s eyes squinted in disbelief. “You want me to do what?”

“I need you to whip me.”

The boy laughed, “Good one, Merlin! Real funny.” When Merlin didn’t join in the laughter Gawaine’s brows knit together in concern. “You’re serious? But why? Isn’t that going to hurt you?”

Merlin rolled his eyes and asked tiredly, “Don’t you remember? _Anguisette_ , Gawaine. I’m going to be hurt for a living.”

“By people who are crazy,” Gawaine joked back. “Come on, I’m not going to test your skin to see if you’re going to like it.”

He started to walk back into the pub Merlin pulled him from but Merlin reached out and took his hand. “Gawaine, please.” He paused and stared into Gawaine’s eyes. “I’m…”

Gawaine understood then and he put a hand on Merlin’s shoulder. “You’re scared.”

Merlin nodded. “You’re the only one I trust with this.”

“What about that teacher of yours?”

Merlin shook his head, “she only wants me to have theoretical knowledge. She wants me to be, as she put it “as naive as possible” when I’m auctioned off.” He snorted sarcastically, “apparently it makes the price go higher.”

Gawaine made a disgusted face. “Sick people, mate.” He sighed and shook his head, “fine. I’ll do it.”

“Really?” Merlin’s excitement kicked up and his heart began to race. “Could you do it tonight?”

“Tonight?”

“Yes. Gaius and Freya are still tending to Nimueh and will be there all night and Cecile will be gone with Vivianne attending some music demonstration that Ygraine is having to help lighten the King’s spirits. We will be alone in our wing of the palace tonight. No one will hear me-”

“Right,” the boy interrupted. “Give me a moment.”

Gawaine rushed back into the pub for a few minutes to wrap up his evening’s affairs. While Merlin waited his appointed guard found him and was about to tear into him about his disrespect for the position. But Merlin spoke before the guard could get a word in, telling him that they would be leaving momentarily and he would have his evening free again. Content to have more free time than expected he just stood next to Merlin and waited. Gawaine soon reappeared and together the three men walked back to the palace. After entering the gates they waved goodbye to their escort and Merlin dragged Gawaine off in the direction of his apartments.

Upon entering the palace Gawaine let out a low whistle. “Man, aren’t you livin’ in the lap o’ luxury.”

Merlin snorted in amusement. “You think this is impressive? You ought to see how those of royal blood live. This is nothing.”

In no time they were safe inside Merlin’s home and they quickly ran up the steps into the confines of Merlin’s bedroom. After making sure to draw the shades and lock the door Merlin lit a couple candles and faced his friend. “Last chance to back out,” he offered.

“So you can tell the boys down at the pub that I’m some kind of limp sissy who can’t rise to a challenge? I don’t think so, Sir Courtesan. Bad for business.” His voice hung heavy with bravado but his eyes held a touch of nervousness. “H-how do we do this?”

“Well,” he licked his lips and remembered what Cecile had been teaching him. “First thing’s first, the _signale_.”

“What’s a _signale?_ ”

“It’s the word that I say when I’ve reached my limit. Or when someone tries to do something that I don’t want. It’s a trust between a courtesan and patron that should never be forsaken. Never be broken.”

Gawaine nodded. “Do you have one?”

He had chosen it the moment he heard Cecile talk about it. Without a thought he chose _Helios_ for the sun, in honor of Arthur. “Helios.” He added quickly, “it has to be something that won’t be easily shouted in the height of passion.”

Gawaine nodded. “Right. So what do I…” The boy let his question hang and Merlin picked it up where he left off.

“Right now I just want you to whip me a little. A couple of times just so that I’m not so frightened with my first patron.” His voice shook. “I want so badly to do well at this and I want to know what I’m getting into.” He turned to his trunk at the foot of the bed and reached in to pull out two objects. The first was a simple brown leather riding crop he had gotten from the stables and cleaned meticulously. The second was something he had nicked from Cecile’s personal stores during a lesson one afternoon; a short-handled, black leather flogger. It had a wooden handle with soft leather wrapped around it for a firm grip and the straps that hung from it were about a foot in length and made from thin strips of leather, softened with use. Holding it in his hands and knowing it would kiss his skin made him shudder. He bit his lip to keep a small whimper to himself, no need in making Gawaine any more uneasy than he already was.

He handed the two implements to Gawaine before stripping off his vest and shirt. He pushed the trunk away from the foot of the bed and knelt in it’s place and braced himself for what he knew was coming. “Alright, Gawaine. I’m ready.” He closed his eyes and bent his head.

There was hesitation between them and Merlin finally looked up at his friend who was looking at the two tools in his hands. When he noticed Merlin’s staring he asked quietly, “which one first?”

Merlin pointed, “the crop, I think. It’s more...familiar.” Gawaine didn’t need any more reminding of Merlin’s first meeting with the whip. He understood and nodded. Merlin turned and bent his head over the foot of his bed and breathed slowly out through his nose, anticipation coursing through his body.

The snap of the crop sent an immediate shot of pain across the middle of his back and it made Merlin cry out sharply and suck in a deep breath. In a second he had gone from intense anxiety and fear to complete arousal. The sensation was breathtaking; addictive.

“Shit, Merlin, are you okay?” There was fear in Gawaine’s voice, not knowing that Merlin’s outcry was more from pleasure than pain.

“Yes,” he managed to squeeze out. “Yes, fine.” He sucked in a deep breath. “Again.”

“Are you sure?”

A shot of anger ripped through Merlin, “did you hear me give my _signale_?”

“No,” he stammered back.

“Then again,” Merlin snapped. But then he exhaled his frustration. “Please,” he added quietly.

The next blow fell at the base of his spine just above the waist of his trousers. Merlin gripped the footboard, his knuckles white as he cried out. He was painfully hard now and he had confirmed what he needed to know. He could’ve ended his little experiment right then and there. But he needed to feel those strips of leather from Cecile’s flogger. “Gawaine,” he breathed.

“What,” he asked, his voice tinted with impatience. _Impatience at me? The situation?_ Merlin resolved to ask him as soon as Gawaine used the flogger. This was important to him but so was Gawaine. He didn’t want to lose his friend.

“Use the flogger.” He forced his muscles to relax despite their burning sting from the riding crop. And then the strands of leather hit his skin and pain bloomed between the two previous marks and his whole back was alive with fire. A shout was ripped from him and he felt sweat course down his face. Most surprising of all was he discovered he was painfully close to orgasm and he hadn’t even touched himself. His breathing came ragged and he sensed Gawaine behind him moving and he was quick to stop his experiment before things went too far. “ _Helios_.”

“Thank the gods,” Gawaine sighed and dropped the flogger to the floor. He reached out and touched the sensitive skin of Merlin’s back. They both hissed at the contact; Gawaine from surprise at the intense heat radiating from his friend and Merlin from the pressure on his burning skin.

“Don’t,” Merlin pleaded. “Don’t touch it, not yet.”

“Sorry,” Gawaine said as he snatched his hand back. “What now, Merlin?”

There were so many questions Gawaine left unasked in that simple inquiry. He chose the most literal translation first; aftercare. “First thing we do now,” Merlin panted, still coming down from his adrenaline rush, “is you go into my trunk and you find a bottle with a green gel in it.” Gawaine rummaged in his trunk until he found it and he held it out for Merlin to take. Merlin shook his head and said, “you spread it on the red marks you made, Gawaine.” He shuddered as the feelings of pleasure began to subside. “It helps the skin to heal.”

The coolness of the gel made Merlin sigh in relief and he leaned heavily into the bed frame. Gawaine’s hand delicately rubbing the gel into his skin was soothing and it calmed the burn left behind from the crop and flogger. Without words he offered up his shirt for Gawaine to use to wipe his hands. He rose on unsteady legs, very aware that he still had a half-hard erection filling his trousers. He readjusted himself and faced Gawaine.

For the first time in their friendship he saw Gawaine completely out of his element. He had boasted of money taken, games won, prizes he acquired and then sold off to benefit his mother and him. He recently began bragging about the girls he kissed and bets on which ones would beg for his hand when he became a rich man someday. He was confident then. Now his cheeks were red with embarrassment and he looked uncertain.

Merlin did that to him and he felt awful.

“Second thing we do is I apologize for asking you to do this,” he said evenly. “It was unfair of me to use you so selfishly-”

“Don’t apologize,” Gawaine said. He swallowed hard and made Merlin turn around so he could look at his back again. “That,” he whispered, “that felt good to you?” Merlin nodded. “What did it feel like?”

“Like,” he grasped for a way to describe what he felt. “It feels like fire. It snaps and spreads and I can’t breathe right. But,” he said feeling, amongst other things, extreme embarrassment, “it sends shots of tingles everywhere and it feels amazing.” He cleared his throat and tried once more to apologize. “I really should apologize to you Gawaine. I made you uncomfortable and that wasn’t right.”

“No it wasn’t,” he replied. “But you trusted me, Merlin, and that means a lot.” He turned him around to face each other again and hugged him gently, avoiding most of the marks on Merlin’s back. “I’m glad you trusted me enough to help you but just,” he paused and took a deep breath. “Just don’t ever make me do that again. I don’t want to hurt you.” He laughed dryly, “no matter how you seem to enjoy it. I just don’t want to accidentally go too far.”

“I understand.” Merlin was relieved that he hadn’t lost his best friend and he pulled away from Gawaine with a grin. “Can I repay with with a pint? We’ll sneak out just like I did the first night we met.”

Gawaine laughed. “You’re on.”

True to his word Merlin snuck out with Gawaine and they raced off unseen back to Gawaine’s favorite pub. They shared a few rounds and then Merlin begged his leave and made his way home before Gaius knew he had been gone without an escort. Sleepy and humming from his previous experience of the whip and the beer he shared with Gawaine he climbed into bed.

His back stung slightly when he laid down to bed and the memory from that evening came screaming into his mind and he soon found himself hard and needy. The residual arousal from before had reappeared quickly and he wrapped a hand around himself to relieve the pent up desire. He remembered the sound the crop made at it met his flesh and he bit his lip as his slid his fist up and down his length. After a few quick slides he put his hand to his mouth to lick two fat stripes onto his palm before returning it to his cock. He sighed at the slick sensation and tried to imagine what it might feel like to have someone touch him while his back was still freshly stinging. What might it be like if he were allowed to touch himself while someone flogged him? As he climaxed he stifled his gasps into his arm, biting down on the flesh to drown out the sound in case Freya or Gaius had returned while he worked himself.

Finally calm and content he rolled over, uncaring of the stickiness from his ministrations, and soon fell into a deep sleep.

 

 

~*~

 

_“Merlin.”_

Merlin woke with a start, shivering at the suddenness of being awake.

Again it came, deep and rumbling, _“Merlin.”_ The voice that woke him sounded so close, like it was inside his head. _But that’s impossible,_ he thought.

 _“Not impossible, Merlin,”_ the voice responded.

“Who are you,” Merlin whispered to the darkness of his room. “Why are you in my head?”

_“Because we are of a kin, you and I. Come find me, Merlin. Free me.”_

“Who are you?”

_“Find me and I will tell you, young anguisette. Fledgling wizard.”_

Merlin gasped in fear. Someone knew about him. Someone knew and now they were using magic to snare him. He would be arrested and executed for magic and Arthur would watch him die with no remorse.

 _“Foolish boy, I won’t hurt you,”_ the voice snapped. _“Follow my voice and all will be explained.”_

Against his better judgement, and not entirely unconvinced he wasn’t still dreaming, Merlin threw off the covers and dressed himself quickly before stepping out his door. On his way out he noticed he was still alone and he breathed a sigh of relief. No one would be awakened and no one would stop him from leaving. Both a curse and blessing.

The voice in his head guided him through the castle to a door in an little used part of the castle. Down a dark set of steps Merlin climbed. He walked and walked until a voice clearly boomed at him from void in front of him, “Stop, fledgling.”

His feet stopped immediately. He licked his lips and spoke, hoping his voice didn’t waver. “I am here like you wanted. Who calls for me?”

A jet of flame shot out of the darkness above him and Merlin dropped to the floor, certain he was about to die by unseen hands. Then the fire receded and there was a gentle glow at his back illuminating a giant rock in front of him. He turned back to see a torch hanging from the wall and reached up to grab it. Torch in hand he turned to face the rock and determine the source of the incredible fire that nearly roasted him. When he lifted the torch he nearly dropped it in surprise. _A bloody dragon! A bloody dragon,_ he screamed internally. There it was, clear as day, sandy gold scales and all, perched atop a rock looking down at him. Definitely not dreaming.

“Surprised, young _anguisette_? Did you not know I would some day call for you,” the dragon questioned, amusement ringing in his words.

“No, not that,” Merlin scrambled for words, his mind racing. “It’s just that...uh…”

“You did not expect me so soon?”

“Yes that and,” his mind finally done processing, “because you’re a dragon! An actual dragon here in Camelot! I thought Gaius was mistaken when he said there was one left!”

The dragon’s laugh was deep and rolling, “my my my, Gaius. That old fossil still puttering around pretending he’s like the rest of them? Forsaking his magic and catering to that boor of a king?” The dragon relaxed, settling down with his claws crossed like a cat settling in for a nap. “Tell me, what happens in the world above?”

Merlin blinked. He couldn’t really be hearing this. “I’m sorry but do you have any idea what time it is?” He didn’t know why he was so irritated by this very loud awakening. This is what he wanted, wasn’t it? What he was born for. The seriousness of this new acquaintance should have taken precedence. But instead all he wanted was to go back to sleep and pretend this was a dream.

“Yes,” the dragon answered easily. “Our bond has finally strengthened enough for us to communicate. And so I called.” He rested his head on his crossed claws. “And after years of waiting here you are. So, please. Tell me news of the happenings above.”

“You couldn’t call at a more convenient time,” Merlin whined. “It’s incredibly late and I have lessons in the morning.” Maybe he would be more inclined to talk with the great beast when his mouth wasn’t full of cotton from a night of drinking and too little sleep.

“Young warlock, when you have been left alone as long as I, time becomes irrelevant.”

“That’s all well and good for you but I have things to do.”

The dragon heaved a sigh. “If I let you get back to sleep will you promise to come back tomorrow when it is convenient for us to converse. It really is quite important, our bond.” he rubbed his talons together on his left claw as if he were bored. “We really should nurture it.”

“Fine,” Merlin agreed. “I’ll come tomorrow after dinner. Does that suffice?”

The dragon huffed. “It’ll have to do for now, I suppose.” When Merlin turned to leave the voice stopped him once more. “Wait!” Merlin turned around and the dragon asked, “aren’t you glad to know you aren’t alone anymore? Aren’t you in some small way happy to see me?”

The uncertainty in the great voice softened his aggravation. He shouldn’t have sounded so put out. He wasn’t alone. He had Gaius, Freya, Gawaine and most happily of all he had Arthur. If what Gaius had said was true then he was the last of his kind. Desperately, and indefinitely alone. With this revelation brought a new understanding and desire to be more gentle with his words. “I never was alone. But I’m happy you’re no longer alone.” He made a quick bow to the dragon and took a step back. “I’ll return tomorrow and tell you all you wish to know. I promise." 

He mounted the steps leading back into the castle and he heard the words in his head, “until tomorrow, then, _anguisette._ ”


	12. Chapter 12

“Hop to it, Merlin,” Gaius chided, “you’re slow on your feet this morning. What’s gotten into you? Are you ill?”

Merlin had the smallest of hangovers that morning due to his drinking and lack of proper sleep from the previous night’s activities, though his back no longer stung. All he wanted was a hot mug of tea, some greasy eggs and toast and a prolonged nap. Unfortunately for him Gaius was very intent on him returning to his studies and had bullied him out of bed.

“I’ll be fine,” he assured Gaius. “Just a bit of a headache. Nothing to fret over.”

“Good. Then get to work.”

That day saw Merlin sitting at his desk translating a Gaelic text, a language he had become very proficient in despite its unpopularity. Even though Gaelic originally had no alphabet, it’s original incantation being just runic scratchings on rocks and trees, eventually it had been translated into a Latin alphabet and, while still unpopular, was becoming a useful language to learn. He thought it was beautiful. The way words rolled off the tongue and the way the words hid their pronunciation. He usually found the exercises delightfully challenging but today they were just tedious.

Finally, after several hours of working on the same page, unable to focus, Gaius cut him loose. “I suppose you can take it easy today, given your headache.” He motioned to Merlin’s half finished translation. “Clearly you’re not going to be of use to yourself today.”

“Thank you, Gaius.” With a grateful bow he rushed out the door to get a bit of fresh air before completing his other obligation for the day. He hoped the dragon wouldn’t require too much of him. Despite his longing to learn his true nature he was apprehensive about trusting the dragon. He knew nothing about dragons, thanks to Gaius’s intent to keep him ignorant until he felt it necessary not to. He hadn’t told Gaius about the dragon’s calling him and wouldn’t until he had had a proper conversation with the giant reptile.

He stepped out into the sunshine of the courtyard, wincing at the harsh light. He blinked a few times and skirted into the shadows of the walkways that led out to the practice field. He hoped to catch a glimpse of Arthur at practice before delving into the bowels of the castle.

His timing was good, it seemed. Arthur was in the broad practice field wielding a blunted sword at a similarly armed assailant. The two men circled each other, testing each other’s resolve. And then Arthur’s opponent attacked, coming at him from the left. Arthur saw the subtle shift in the man’s footwork and was prepared to block the blow. Metal clanged and the circling resumed. The opponent thrust forward and Arthur knocked aside the sword, pushing forward to make an attempt but the man sidestepped his attack. They ended up on opposite sides of their ever spinning circle. Merlin watched raptly as they tested each other’s defenses, each blocking and attacking, giving as good as they got. Though Merlin had never studied swordsmanship -obviously being trained for other, more carnal pursuits- he had observed enough to see the subtle changes in the way a man held his sword before striking, the way a foot pivoted before an opponent would block. It was an art he appreciated from afar.

Eventually the two men began to tire and Arthur’s opponent slid to one knee while trying a thrust and ended up on the ground with Arthur’s blade at his neck. One of the older knights came forward to congratulate Arthur and to haul the other from the ground. The knight talked in low tones to them both, low enough that Merlin couldn’t make out what was being said, and after a minute they parted ways and the knight called over two new dueling partners.

Arthur made his way to the well on the far side of the practice field. A squire was already drawing a bucket up from the depths of the well and by the time the Prince got there water was waiting for him. He lifted a ladle to his lips, drinking deeply, then dipped it back in to collect water to splash over his neck.

Merlin smiled at the picture Arthur made; flushed from activity, wet from sweat and water, eyes shining in victory. He looked every part the Prince he was and Merlin couldn’t stop his appreciative staring. Arthur must have felt his eyes on him because he turned and found Merlin staring at him. He didn’t wave or call to him; they both knew Arthur couldn’t acknowledge Merlin in public due to their difference in station. But he inclined his head in a nod and smiled a smile only for Merlin before turning his attention to the field where a fresh spar was taking place.

It was enough. The small breath of fresh air and a glimpse of Arthur was enough, he decided, and made himself move back inside the castle to have an audience with the dragon.

 

~*~

 

“Tell me everything,” the dragon rumbled at him the second he entered the rocky dungeon.

Merlin sat on the ground and pulled his knees to his chin. “What would you like to know?”

“What is the state of Camelot right now? How fare the magic folk?”

“Well, Camelot is thriving. The people are content, trade is good and we’re in a time of peace.” He bit his lip, not wanting to give him the unhappy news. “But most of the magic folk are either dead or in deep hiding. And just this winter a rogue wizard was executed for murdering several people.”

“Why would he do such a thing? Why would he twist his magic so? Did he say?”

“He said he wanted to freeze the plague that fell on Camelot. Despite Uther’s...methods of interrogation he wouldn’t say anything more.” Merlin’s face twisted in a grimace of disgust. “He was burned in the courtyard before all the eyes of the court and city."

The dragon hung his head, clearly unhappy at hearing the news. “What happens to those of magic who do no wrong? Are they still able to move freely through Camelot as long as they leave and do no harm?”

Merlin shook his head. “No. Uther has become incredibly suspicious and stubborn with all matters surrounding magic. Anyone caught using magic, no matter the reason, is imprisoned, tried for treason and executed.” He added thoughtfully, “though I haven’t seen any unjustified executions in all the years I have lived here.” He smiled a small, sad smile. “Those who are on the good side of magic keep themselves well hidden.”

That seemed to calm the dragon some. Then his face grew serious. “What of the coven? The witches who took over Avalon?”

“There is no word. Not reliably, anyway.” Merlin scratched the back of his head. “Unsurprising considering any mention of the island scares people into silence. Either they have well retreated into the mists forever and left behind a terrifying memory or Morgause is planning something and she’s very good at covering her tracks. Gaius seems to think it’s the latter but so far we’ve heard nothing.”

“And of the royal family?”

“Uther and Ygraine still live, still married. Arthur is a young man of fifteen, nearing sixteen. He’s handsome with hair like sunshine and eyes like deep, still ponds. Incredibly bold and happy, and everything else desirable in a future king.” Realizing he had gone too far in his description he cleared his throat and added with just a touch of interest, “Morgana, Uther’s ward, is my age. Nearing fifteen.” He kept the secret of her magic to himself, unsure of the response he would get. All knowledge was worth having but some knowledge could be used against you if one wasn’t careful. “And now Uther has taken a consort, desperate for another heir since Ygraine’s ever failing health has made the prospect an impossibility for her.”

“A consort?” The dragon scratched his chin with a giant claw. “Who is she? Where did she come from? Did she succeed in providing Uther with another heir?”

“Her name is Nimueh of Mere. No one knows where she came from or how they met. She seems friendly enough, though we’ve never spoken. But obviously the Queen was distressed about the addition to the household. More so when it was announced that Nimueh was pregnant.”

“Did she bring the child to term,” the dragon asked, voice full of concern.

“No,” Merlin stated plainly. “She miscarried halfway through her pregnancy and the child was stillborn.” Merlin sighed and lay flat on his back to stare into the blackness of the cavern. “Uther was very distraught.”

“Good.”

Merlin straightened to stare at the dragon. “Excuse me? It’s good that a child died?”

“This child, yes.” When no explanation was forthcoming Merlin prompted, “care to explain why a mother’s grief is good?”

“Because Nimueh is almost certainly in league with Morgause.”

The answer stunned him. He held up his two forefingers in questioning and gasped, “what? Hold on, where did you get that idea from?”

“You called her Nimueh of Mere. Don’t you remember your history lessons? Did you not cover the evolution of your language?” Merlin shook his head and the dragon groaned in frustration. “You young, short lived humans. You lose so much in your meager lifetimes, it’s sad.” He yawned and flexed his wings, “‘Mere’ is the ancient root for “lake”. Nimue of the Lake.” He sniffed in annoyance. “Seems rather obvious where she’d be from, Merlin.”

“But if she’s from Avalon then why would Uther allow her into court? Allow her into his life?”

The dragon thought a moment. “How does he act around her?”

“Happy. Blissfully unaware of others.” A chill ran down his spine. “While Nimueh was pregnant he ignored Ygraine and Arthur almost entirely.”

“Seems rather odd, doesn’t it? For a man to turn away from a doting but ailing wife isn’t so unusual when a younger, healthy and fertile replacement is about. But to turn away from his son. His recognized heir?” The dragon clicked his tongue, “well, that smacks of magic, now doesn’t it?”

The dragon’s theory stuck with him for the rest of the evening, stewing in his mind as he replayed their conversation over and over again, analysing all he knew of Nimueh and Uther. He needed to do some research, and fast, if he were to prove such a theory. What would he even do with such knowledge? This was too big for him to handle alone. He had to consult Gaius. That night after Freya made her way to bed he confronted Gaius with his newfound knowledge. He told him of his meeting with the dragon and all the had spoke about. When he presented the dragon’s theory of Nimueh’s identity Gaius covered his mouth in surprise.

“Well, it certainly would make sense,” he conceded after a long pause. “The secrecy of her origin, the King’s behavior with her. It would fit.” He shook a finger at Merlin, “but if you go spreading such rumors you’re likely to end up on the block without your head.”

“Give me some credit, Gaius.” He crossed his arms in defense and sniffed. “What kind of a potion could hold a man so tight for so long?”

“I’m not sure. Like as not whatever’s been done to him needs constant maintenance. I’ll have to examine my texts.” He rose to dig through his chest of books.

“Do you think I could help,” Merlin asked hopefully.

Gaius stopped in his tracks, lost in thought for a moment. He finally reached a decision and said, “since the dragon has called you I guess there’s no point in ignorance as far as magic is concerned, is there?” With permission granted he motioned for Merlin to follow him and help pull out his small library of forbidden knowledge.

On a shelf, hidden deep behind several medical texts and other mixed pieces of literature lay a board that, when pulled back, revealed a wealth of magical knowledge.

“Has anyone told you that you might have a knack for deceit,” Merlin asked fondly, reaching in to pull out a dusty tome.

Gaius sniffed in amusement. “How do you think I’ve survived so long?” He pointed to the book in Merlin’s hands, “that won’t do us much good there. That’s a book that holds nothing but small tricks fit for entertaining children.”

The old physician ran his fingers lovingly along the spines stacked in the little cubby, searching. He plucked three books from the cubby and handed one to Merlin. “These will hold more answers for us.” The novelty of having access to knowledge previously denied to him was intoxicating. Merlin had always loved the smell of parchment, the rough texture of the pages beneath his fingers. Combined with the new drawings and words of the spells in front of him he was hard pressed to stick to the task at hand: finding a suitably strong love potion or spell that would bind Uther to Nimueh.

As he flipped the pages of the tome Gaius gave him he saw spells that would restore hair to a bald man, a potion that remove freckles from a woman’s nose, a poultice that would draw poison from infected teeth and much more. In between he saw a minor infatuation spell that would have the inflicted party at the mercy of the spellcaster for a full day. Not nearly strong enough to be the spell Nimueh might have used.

Gaius muttered to himself while they read. Small things like “haven’t seen this in years” and “would need to be stronger” and “not creative enough”. Merlin soon became distracted in a spell that would help a person bend a hedge into the shape of a dragon, particularly interesting given Merlin’s horticulturistic tendencies. He was startled from the page when Gaius whooped in triumph.

“Yes! I knew it would be here!”

“What’s that Gaius?” Merlin closed his book, taking a moment to tuck a slip of paper to mark his place, and focused his attention on Gaius. “Find something useful?”

“I think I’ve found what we’re looking for.” He turned the book to Merlin so he could see the page. “ _Amoris Morti_. Very dark stuff. But I think it outlines everything that we need.” He read off the ingredients needed to produce the potion. _A drop of blood from the intended and the spellbinder, a hair from the intended, water from the lake of Avalon, a single Delphinium flower, milk of poppy, arbutus flower_. A potion that was meant to bind the drinker to the spellcaster, every ingredient intended to bring on fierce, delirious happiness and attachment.

Merlin shook his head, chills running down his spine. “How do we prove this? If Nimueh truly is a sorceress from Avalon then she would have been well prepared. We can’t just accuse her, could we?”

“No, I’m afraid not.” Gaius frowned and stared at the page again. “We’ll have to find out how she keeps administering the potion. It says here that it needs to be maintained once a month exactly, to the day, in order for it to remain effective long term.” An idea struck the old man. “If we can find out their routine maybe we can find out when she has to re-administer the potion. Then if we can find out where and how she does it we would have solid proof.”

“Why do you think she’s here, though, Gaius?”

“I don’t know what her exact role is, other than embedding herself into the royal family, obviously. But if she’s here under Morgause’s orders then her purpose cannot be good.”


	13. Chapter 13

Over the next few weeks Gaius had Freya and Merlin running more and more errands for him in the royal apartments. They tried to befriend the staff that attended the King, Queen and Consort. Freya succeeded in befriending a guard who stood outside the King’s quarters by recommending a salve that would soothe the man’s aches from a previous war injury. For Merlin’s part, he got to know Gwen, Morgana’s maid, better. She often accompanied Morgana on her trips to visit Nimueh while she recovered from her traumatic miscarriage and was more than willing to gossip with Merlin about her daily activities.

Between the two fledglings they didn’t learn much at first. Due to Nimueh’s injuries, and Uther’s lingering anger, the couple had not spent much time together. The King still visited his consort every day to ask upon her well being but never stayed more than a few minutes, opting instead to spend time with his Queen. The guard whom Freya had befriended told her in confidence one day while she delivered him his salve that the King had become icy towards Nimue. Uther was greatly disappointed with her and he considered the miscarriage a great failing on her part. He wanted nothing to do with Nimueh at present and the knowledge sat just fine with the physician and his fosterlings, and the dragon when Merlin told him. He shared their theory on the potion to the dragon, hoping for some insight from the great beast.

“That certainly sounds plausible,” the dragon mused from his perch. “How do you think she was able to ensnare him in the first place?”

“I don’t know. No one seems to know where she came from.”

“When did she join the court?” Merlin told him about his birthday the previous year and the ceremony. “Where had he been before then,” the dragon asked.

Thinking back over his time at the castle he could remember Uther frequently going to inspect the outlying villages in his domain, often riding for days at a time to take in the breadth of his kingdom. “He had just returned from a short trip to the outskirts.”

“Does anyone remember her coming back with him?”

Merlin shook his head, “not that I remember.” He frowned. “Though back then we didn’t have much of a need to ask. What are you thinking?”

The dragon flexed his wings, stretching the underused appendages. “I think that it’s time to start talking to the Queen and her servants. You said before that the Queen seemed displeased at the ceremony but unsurprised. That means she knew beforehand. Start looking for answers, fledgling.”

And he had fully intended to do so. But an event came screaming into Merlin’s life that temporarily dragged him from the mystery at hand.

 

~*~

 

The summer came on quickly and Merlin’s fifteenth birthday drew near. Aside from a small celebration with Gaius, Freya, Cecile and Viviane, birthdays were a mostly quiet but happy affair. Despite the humble celebrations, Gaius was sure to make the day of their births special for Merlin and Freya and this year was no exception.

“How would you feel about picking one of my books for your own,” Gaius suggested one night over dinner.

Merlin dropped his spoon in surprise. “Are you serious?”

“Very,” Gaius replied, sipping his soup. “You can have from now until the day of your birthday to peruse my books and choose one for yourself.” He added thoughtfully, “provided you’re able to find a suitable hiding place for it.”

Merlin was so happy he leapt from his chair to come round to Gaius and hug him fiercely. Gaius just laughed and bid him go back to his soup. Merlin spent the rest of the evening with his nose buried in a book that categorized the most common types of plants used in everyday spells and potions.

But, like the mist of morning fades with rising of the sun, Merlin’s excitement faded into fear and horror.

His feelings of dread first came upon him when he was in the courtyard the next morning. He was to meet Gwen that morning to talk about Morgana’s visit with Nimueh the previous day when he spotted them, a small frightened family being dragged in by a band of royal guards.

“Please! We’ve done nothing wrong,” a woman shouted, shuffling and clutching a small girl to her chest who was no more than eight.

“That’s for the King to say,” a guard yelled back.

“We weren’t doing anything! We swear! We’ve been nothing but peaceful,” a man pleaded, trying to shield his family from the pushing and shoving of the guards.

“You’re well aware what it means to practice magic in Camelot, sorcerer!” The guard in charge kicked him to the ground, earning a shriek from the little girl in the woman’s arms and a boy, older than the girl. He could have easily been thirteen or fourteen but he looked so frightened he might as well had been a babe.

“Da!” The boy rushed to his father’s side and tried to help him up but another guard grabbed the back of the boy’s shirt to tug him off. “Let go of me!”

“Silence!”

All motion in the courtyard stopped and all eyes turned sharply to the King who stood at the top of the stairs that led to the entrance of the palace. The sick, familiar feeling of deja vu swamped Merlin and he felt his knees wobble and his mouth parch. He had been where that family had been, once. Beneath the cold, angry glare of the King was not a good place to be at the best of times. But being accused of sorcery was a death sentence in the King’s eyes and the family knew it.

The woman gathered the children in her arms and coerced them to their knees while her husband groveled in front of the King, pleading for mercy. “Please, mi’lord! Do not harm my family! It was all my fault!”

The King ignored the peasant and spoke to the head guard. “What is this family being accused of, exactly?”

The guard pointed to the man and said, “that man was seen lifting a cart in the air. In broad daylight.”

“It was a runaway cart! No one could stop it!” The man openly wept, clutching his hands in front of him, shaking in fear. “It was going to hit my daughter, Edith, my little girl,” he sputtered. “I just wanted to protect her.”

The King glared at the man. “You levitated a cart. You performed magic within _my_ city walls.” He stalked down the steps, each step causing the woman and children to flinch. “You are well aware of the laws of Camelot, are you not?” He stopped in front of the cringing man. Receiving no response he shouted, “are you or are you not aware of the laws of Camelot!”

“Yes, yes, mi’lord,” the man blubbered immediately.

“Then you know what happens to those who use magic and those who harbor them?”

“Please don’t hurt my family! They did nothing wrong! It was all me!”

“There’s no way to reliably tell if you are lying or not.” The King crouched down to glare into the man’s eyes. “A man will do anything for the love of his family. Even lie and offer himself up as sacrifice to save his kin.” Uther flicked his eyes to the woman and children. “And what about you three, huh? Are you sorcerers too?”

The man interjected before they could, “no, no! Not them!”

“I did not ask you,” Uther shouted back before punching the man squarely in the jaw, laying him flat and silent. He reached out to snatch the boy from his mother. “What about you, boy? Do you have magic in you?” He was stricken with fear and could do no more than shake his head. The King dropped the boy and his mother recollected him and clutched her children close. He looked at the woman and asked, “are these your only children?”

“Y-yes, mi’lord.”

“They are his children by blood,” he pointed to her husband.

“Yes, yes, of course.”

Uther nodded in decision and snapped his fingers. “Take them all to the dungeon.”

“No! No, please,” the woman shrieked.

The King ignored her pleas and fired off his decision. “For harboring a fugitive, a user of magic, you and your husband, the sorceror, are sentenced to death. Your children, for being unfortunate enough to be born with the potential for magic, shall join you in your fate.”

“Please have mercy,” the woman wept.

“They’re just children,” the man screamed. “They know nothing! We were sure of it! Please, Camelot is our home! We never meant to cause trouble! Let the children live!”

Uther just shook his head coldly. “You should have thought of your children before you decided to stay in Camelot.” He jerked his head in the direction of the dungeon doors. “Remove these evil sorcerers from my sight.”

The guards were quick to comply, the lead guard adding a quick “at once my lord” before dragging away the crying and screaming family. Merlin watched the whole scene from the background, terrified. He ran all the way back to his apartments and retold the story to Gaius.

“Isn’t there anything we can do for them?” There were tears in his eyes. “They didn’t do anything wrong! Gods, they’re just children.” He was trembling and he couldn’t stop himself.

“Hush,” Gaius crooned. “It’s lamentable but there’s nothing we can do without exposing ourselves and earning the same fate.” He helped Merlin to a chair and pulled him to an embrace. “Had I known who they were I could have helped them sooner. Gotten them out to the druids or to another kingdom where magic isn’t villainized.”

“But those children,” Merlin mumbled numbly.

“I wish we could help but unless Uther shows mercy nothing can be done. I’m sorry.”

It didn’t take long for news of the family of sorcerers to spread throughout the castle and, on it’s tail, the cruel reality of Uther’s decision to execute the entire family, children and all. No one was loud in their support of the decision but no one was brave enough to speak against him. Even the royal family was silent on the matter. Ygraine, it was said, was loathe to think her husband would not show mercy for children. Uther was heard yelling that if he did not kill them now they would only come back with hatred and magic in their hearts, turned black with vengeance and they would try to destroy Camelot. Nimueh just removed herself from the proceedings as she had when the murdering wizard had been sentenced, remaining silent. Arthur just stood still by his father, refusing to comment to anyone his feelings. All he said was, “the will of the King is final.”

The preparations for the execution went swiftly and it only took a full two days for a team of carpenters to build a gallows for the family. Uther decreed that, in his infinite mercy, he would allow the family to die together and swiftly. Ygraine’s softness for children stuck with him and he did not want the children to suffer any more than needful. And so it happened, as the sun rose on the day of Merlin’s fifteenth birthday, Merlin, Gaius and Freya watched with heavy hearts and wet eyes as the weeping family mounted the steps to their death.

Just as it was with the justified execution of the evil wizard, a dais was orchestrated in front of the gallows so that the royal family may watch the proceedings. And once again, Ygraine and Nimueh were not present. The executioner, flanked by two royal guards with pikes, affixed each of the family members with a knotted noose around their necks. The little girl was not tall enough to stand with her noose around her neck so they called for a crate to be put beneath her feet and raise her up. The image she presented jarred even the most iron of onlookers.

“Mama, I’m scared,” she cried, sniffling and unable to wipe her eyes with her hands bound behind her.

“I know, sweetheart,” her mother wept. “It will be fine. It will be real quick,” she tried to soothe, hiccuping through the words. “Just like sleeping.”

The man croaked to his wife and children, “gods forgive me.”

The boy was dry eyed, looking straight ahead at the man who condemned his whole family to die, the King, with contempt in his eyes.

The King rose and commanded attention. “Sorcerers,” he boomed, “you have been found guilty, through eye witnesses, of performing magic and harboring users of magic. To rid our great city of the plague that resides within yourselves I am obliged to sentence you all to death.” He stared down the family with unfeeling eyes. “May the gods have mercy on your soul.”

“May the gods have mercy on your soul!”

Everyone’s attention focused on the boy who had climbed the gallows so calmly. He now panted with barely contained rage. “You think this is mercy!” The boy’s lips curled into a snarl. “You are an evil man and I hope you rot in the pits of hell for this!”

“Thomas,” the woman said to him quietly. “Be still. You’ll only make this worse.”

“Your mother speaks wisdom,” Uther said. “Hold your evil, viper’s tongue, young wizard.”

“Or what,” the boy scoffed. “You’ll kill me? You already have.”

Uther’s gaze was unrelenting on the boy. Without removing his gaze he spoke to the executioner, “do your duty.”

With the pull of a lever all four doors opened and all four bodied plummeted. The woman and little girl jerked to a stop and moved no more. The man twitched spastically a few seconds before being still. But the boy. The boy struggled, choking in his bonds and kicking. It took minutes for him to finally still and die. The most disconcerting thing is that his eyes never wavered from Uther’s, locked in a battle of stares even as his eyes reddened and bulged until life finally slipped from him.

Without looking away from the boy he shouted, “cut them down. Burn them. Get them out of my sight.” He stormed off the dais leaving Morgana, Arthur and the rest of the handpicked royals to their own devices.

Merlin was numb. He hadn’t wanted to be there. Hadn’t wanted to witness the death of an otherwise innocent family. But he couldn’t hide himself away while his people suffered alone. He forced himself to attend in silent sympathy.

 _Today was supposed to be a happy day_ , he thought. He scolded himself guiltily for being selfish but he couldn’t help his feelings. He was supposed to be enjoying an easy day with his family and celebrating his birth. Those children were supposed to have led long lives and have more birthdays, too. Now all he could see was the tears in their eyes and the angry, bulged eyes of the boy. He stood there as the guards cut down the bodies and stacked them in a cart to haul them away.

They would be burned later, away from the eyes of the people, remembered by no one. He stared at the cart as they were hauled away. Then he was dragged from the gruesome picture by Freya’s hand on his shoulder. “Merlin,” she said softly. “Come with me.” Too distraught to do anything else he allowed himself to be led away by Freya, not knowing where he was being led, entirely uncaring of where they were headed.

Freya led him beyond the gates of the palace and they walked in silence to Night’s Doorstep. They found Gwaine’s favorite tavern and Freya led him inside. Gwaine was already there waiting for them.

The two foster siblings sat in a booth in the corner of the pub and Gwaine brought over a pitcher of wine and a plate of sausage. “Eat something, Merlin.”

Merlin shook his head. “Might be sick if I do.”

Gwaine nodded and filled a cup with wine. “This might help.”

Merlin’s eyes drifted to Gwaine’s outstretched hand and sighed. He took the cup and swallowed the deep purple wine, letting the sweetness coat him inside. He drained the cup and set it back down and Gwaine filled it without asking. After draining the second cup he finally looked at his oldest friend. “They were just kids.” Tears welled up and threatened to spill over. “That boy was scarcely younger than me.”

He looked down into his cup, empty now due to his attention. “It could have been me.” He looked frantically to Gwaine and then to Freya. “That could have been us, Freya,” he whispered fearfully.

Freya hugged him close and Gwaine filled both their cups. “But it’s not,” she said sternly.

“But it could have been.”

Gwaine dropped a hand on his shoulder, “and I could have been thrown in the dungeon all those years ago when you just got a whipping.” He gestured to Freya, “she could have died in the streets.” He pointed to Merlin, “you could have died with your mother.” Merlin remained silent. “There’s no point in saying what could have been, Merlin.” He sat back and took a grim sip out of his own cup, “the future is all there is, Merlin. Best not to dwell on the past.”

Gwaine shook his head and put on a forced smile. “I think that we need to put the ugliness of today behind us.” He raised his glass, “happy birthday, mate. Drinks are on me.”

 

~*~

 

In time, the celebrating came easier. The wine made it easier to forget the boy’s eyes every time Merlin closed his and he began to hum with the pleasure of the drink. Gwaine was very generous and their table never ran dry. Before Merlin knew it the sun had set and Freya had taken her leave, making him promise to find an escort before he found his way home.

“How in the world are you able to afford all this doting on me,” Merlin asked before stabbing a piece of sausage with a fork.

“Well, I’m well on my way to buying this place,” Gwaine said, smiling.

“You’re kidding me?” Gwaine shook his head and Merlin laughed. “Well, that’s amazing! How?”

Gwaine pointed at the door. “You know the stable next door? Well, I’ve earned a very respectable reputation with my horses. Been buying up the stalls, one by one, and renting my horses out for use. Add that to my incredible luck at dice-”

“You mean cheating,” Merlin snickered.

“Luck,” Gwaine maintained, laughing. “I’ve been able to do quite well for myself.” He snuck a piece of cheese from the plate. “Hardly have to steal anymore.”

“Your mother should be so proud,” Merlin chucked, downing another gulp of wine.

“She is.” Gwaine pointed to the ceiling. “In fact, she’s rather fond of the room upstairs.” He smiled fondly, his gaze far away. “Can finally give her a place to call her own.” He gestured in a sweeping motion, shaking his head, “no more renting from filthy inns, no more scraping and begging the kindness of neighbors and friends. It’s going to happen, Merlin!”

Merlin raised his cup, “to your mother! May she never regret begetting you!”

Gwaine laughed at that and clunked their cups together, “I’ll drink to that!”

“Merlin,” a voice spoke to him.

With glassy eyes he looked to the side to see where the voice came from and saw a figure with a red tunic and brown cape, hood pulled over his eyes. Merlin, being so drunk he didn’t immediately recognize the voice. “Can I help you?”

The figure tilted his head up a fraction, allowing the hood to uncover his eyes for a moment and bring recognition into Merlin’s mind. Gwaine groaned, knowing finally who it was, too.

“Oh no, your highness! Don’t bring no trouble on me future place of business,” Gwaine drawled. “Don’t need your father coming and dragging your royal arse out and giving this place a bad reputation.”

“This place had a good reputation,” Arthur asked dryly.

Gwaine considered a moment, shrugged and tipped back his cup, “fair point.”

“What brings you here, Your Highness,” Merlin asked quietly.

Arthur took a seat, hood still over his face, and reached for an empty cup. “I came to share in your distress.” Receiving no denial or agreement Arthur rolled his eyes and said, “the execution this morning. I saw you from across the courtyard.” He took a swallow of wine before returning his eyes to Merlin’s. “You looked unwell. When you never came back I went to look for you.”

That knowledge gave his stomach a pleasant turn and Merlin smiled. “Worried about me?”

Arthur just snorted into his cup and refused to comment. The way his eyes stayed on Merlin’s was confirmation enough. Gwaine looked into the pitcher and saw that it was empty and bellowed his displeasure. “Bah! Time to get a refill. Won’t be but a moment,” he said before bounding out of his chair, nearly overturning it, and making his way back to the bar.

Head fuzzy and cheeks warm with drink, Merlin chuckled into his hand at Gwaine’s near falling. He shook his head, immediately deciding that was a bad plan. “Gods, how much have I had,” he asked himself absentmindedly.

“Undoubtedly too much,” Arthur said, plucking the cup out of his hand. “You’ve been here all day.”

“Can you blame me,” Merlin asked, suddenly serious. “I mean, today is my birthday and I got to watch children be executed for the sins of their parents.” He held his head in his hands. “I’m not even sure that the parents deserved it.” He closed his eyes, mood rapidly declining. His eyes misted over anew and he made himself face Arthur. “He just wanted to save his daughter.”

“I know,” Arthur said softly.

Surprise and confusion filled Merlin. He didn’t know what to say. “What?”

“I mean,” Arthur spat, pausing before continuing. “I think that...in this case, maybe my father was not entirely correct.”

Merlin remained quiet and waited to hear more. When Arthur didn’t offer more he prompted, “what do you mean?”

“Those children were innocent,” Arthur said plainly. “There was no chance to tell if they had magic or not.” He took a sip from Merlin’s mug. “And maybe the family should have been allowed to relocated rather than executed.” He took another swallow and added, “they didn’t seem like they wanted anything other than to live in peace.”

Merlin nodded and took back his cup. “I feel the same.”

Then Arthur seemed to have a moment of clarity. “Wait, today is your birthday?” Merlin nodded and Arthur shoved him goodnaturedly. “Why the hell didn’t you tell me?”

Merlin shrugged. “I don’t know. Never came up, I guess.”

Arthur pouted. “Wish I had known. Might have gotten you something.”

Merlin laughed, “what would you have given me?” He put a hand on the Prince’s thigh under the table, “you being here is gift enough.”

Arthur gave him a heated look and suddenly Merlin wished they were alone. His eyes dropped to Arthur’s lips and he had a desperate need to kiss him. He was fuzzy and happy with the excess of drink and he felt the warmth of arousal pool in his belly.

Arthur’s voice was low and rumbling, full of purpose. “Are you sure there’s nothing you want?” He smiled, knowing full well what Merlin wanted and Merlin could see that he wanted things too.

“I think,” Merlin said, licking his lips, words leaving him before he had a chance to examine and stop them, “that I want to walk home. I can hear my bed calling to me.”

“Then by all means,” Arthur said, rising. “Let’s not keep it waiting.” He held out his hand to help Merlin up and Merlin took it eagerly.

Coming unsteadily to he feet he shouted at Gwaine, “Oy! Prince of Thieves!”

Gwaine’s head swiveled around to eye the two men he had previously been entertaining. “What you want, Merlin?”

“I am off to my bed!” He bowed low, losing his balance and Arthur caught him, both of them giggling. “Thank you for a lovely birthday, friend.”

Gwaine bowed in return. “Safe travels.”

Arthur nearly carried Merlin out the door and put them on the path back towards the palace. “You great lush,” Arthur teased. “Have you no self control?”

“When it comes to the drink? Usually. When it comes to you,” he stopped still in the middle of the road and stared into Arthur’s eyes, “never.”

Arthur bit his lip mischievously and looked around to check that they were alone before leaning in and kissing Merlin full on the lips, his hood shielding most of their faces. It was quick and harsh, over too quickly for Merlin’s taste. When Arthur pulled back he made a sound that was most definitely _not_ a whine and Arthur chuckled softly. “Let’s keep moving. I want to give you your present.”

They made good time back to the palace and they giggled and shushed each other as they made their stumbling way back to Merlin’s apartments. Before they opened the door Merlin put a finger to his lips warning Arthur to be quiet. “Wait here,” he whispered before ducking inside.

“Not for long, I hope.” Arthur flashed him a grin that made Merlin’s knees weak.

Merlin pressed a small kiss to Arthur’s lips. “Two seconds.”

Merlin ducked inside the door and scanned the room. Seeing no one he navigated his way across the room to peer into his room and finding it empty, not caring at the moment where Freya had gotten off to, he raced back to the door to let Arthur in. “Come in,” he whispered as Arthur slipped in.

Once the door was closed Arthur’s arms came around him. He lifted Merlin easily, Merlin’s legs automatically wrapping around Arthur’s waist, before capturing Merlin’s mouth with his. Merlin marveled at the hardness of Arthur’s body against his. Without seeming like they moved at all, Merlin and Arthur were suddenly in Merlin’s room and he was being gently laid on his bed with Arthur’s body pressing into him.

“Gods,” Merlin panted into Arthur’s mouth, “you’re really strong,” Merlin marveled.

Arthur chuckled and dipped his head to Merlin’s neck. “You always so easily impressed?” Arthur didn’t give him a chance to respond, opting to rip a moan from him instead by biting him at the juncture of his shoulder and neck.

The room grew too hot, his clothes stifling and Merlin could feel his very interested erection pressing uncomfortably between them, trapped in its prison of cloth. He rolled his hips beneath Arthur and groaned. “Too many clothes, too warm,” he pulled Arthur’s face close to kiss him, full of desperation.

Arthur kissed him back, pulling back just enough to ask, “what do you propose to do about it?”

Merlin put a hand to Arthur’s chest and pushed, gently prodding him to lift so Merlin could sit up. “I want to open my birthday present,” Merlin joked, waggling his eyebrows. Arthur laughed and stood. Merlin joined him to stand next to the bed, wobbling just a little as he righted himself.

“Think you handle yourself, Merlin,” the Prince joked.

Merlin nodded and drank in the sight of Arthur. He noticed that somewhere along the way Arthur had removed his cloak but he was otherwise clothed in simple garments. Nothing like the fine linen and leather he normally wore. This was rough, hastily dyed cotton. Probably procured from Lancelot at Arthur’s request. He hadn’t even had the presence of mind to ask him where Lancelot was, so used to the sentry being ever present. He blinked slowly once to remove all other thoughts from his mind. This was just to be him and Arthur. His Prince’s gift to him.

With shaking hands he reached out to smooth his hands along the hard planes of Arthur’s chest over his shirt. When they reached the hem he curled his fingers in the fabric and lifted it upward, tugging it over Arthur’s head in a one swift motion. He sent a silent thanks Cecile’s way for having him practice so many things, disrobing being one of them. He had thought before that could gracefully undress himself or anyone else in his sleep, having done it so many times, and he was thankful that his training was proving useful. The knowledge that he finally had a chance to put into action his training filled him with eager anticipation.

This was the first time either of them had seen one or another without their shirts since childhood. Things were different. Arthur had grown into a sculpted physique, honed from hours of vigorous sparring, fighting and hunting. His muscles clearly defined and the skin unmarred by blemishes. He made Merlin’s mouth water.

Once he was bared to Merlin’s gaze Arthur squirmed under Merlin’s eyes, suddenly seeming shy. He bit his lip and dropped his eyes to the floor. “I really hope you like your gift.” His hands knotted together, “I can’t exactly return it.”

“Shut up, you dunce,” Merlin chided fondly. He kissed Arthur above his heart, letting his lips linger a moment, memorizing the feel of his skin. “You look wonderful.”

Arthur smiled broadly at the compliment and reached out to Merlin but stopped halfway to ask, “may I?”

Merlin nodded, “you may,” and then Arthur’s hands were upon him, drawing him close and sliding beneath the fabric of his shirt. The feel of skin on skin, just his hands at the moment but with the promise of more, was rapidly making him weak. He tipped his head up in a silent plea that Arthur answered, their lips lowering to slide against each other. Their tongues tasted each other while Arthur pulled his hands from Merlin’s back to push off the courtesan’s vest. Once the vest had found it’s way to the floor Arthur’s hands pressed themselves to Merlin’s sides. Up and up he slid his palms, the shirt making its ascent all the while. Their faces parted just long enough for Arthur to cast aside the shirt.

The new sensation of bare skin, chests pressed against each other, surprised them both. Merlin sighed into Arthur’s mouth and he felt Arthur’s grip in his sides. They grew lost in each other, drunk on more than the wine, fingertips tracing patterns into each other’s skin and mouths mapping the slopes of their necks. It seemed like they had been kissing forever when they finally slowed and remembered they were still standing and half clothed. The idea of a very naked Arthur had Merlin twitching needfully. His hands rested just above the fastenings of the cotton trousers and he gave Arthur a look of request and receiving permission in a wordless nod. His own trousers were hastily removed and then they stood still a moment; regarding each other in a new context.

They were the same height now, they were both fully erect and their chests held none of the coarse hairs that graced older men. But that’s where their similarities ended. Where Arthur was muscled and sculpted for war Merlin was soft, his body strong but honed to be aesthetically pleasing. They each had smatterings of hair along their legs though Merlin’s was black, monochromatic, Arthur’s was an array of colors. Blond on his head. Pale, almost white and bleached by long hours in the sun, on his arms. Dark, earthy brown surrounding his cock and on his legs.

Merlin was so preoccupied with taking in everything about Arthur that it startled him when the Prince spoke. “Have you looked your fill,” he asked, smile sincere but clearly itching to move forward and pick up where they left off with their mutual exploration.

Merlin nodded and opened his arms to Arthur. Arthur stepped into his embrace and kissed him, gently pushing Merlin down to the bed.

The first contact of their hardened cocks against one another drew sharp intakes of breath from them followed by shuddering and cursing. Frantic, sloppy kissing and inexperienced writhing saw them rutting into each other in a desperate pace. Merlin recovered just enough of his senses to put a change to that.

He gripped Arthur’s arse and pulled him close, wrapping his legs around him, coaxing him to still. Arthur pulled his head from where it had occupied itself in Merlin’s neck to stare questioningly. Merlin kissed him once softly, assuring him that all was well. He took his right hand from where it rested on Arthur’s arse and brought it Arthur’s face and used his left to drag Arthur’s right hand to his mouth. He licked Arthur’s palm, feeling the Prince’s body quiver above him. “Lick my hand,” he whispered before licking the palm once more. Arthur did as he was told, licking three fat stripes into Merlin’s palm. Suitably slick for Merlin’s purposes he wrapped his own hand around Arthur’s now leaking cock. The answering moan, bitten off by Arthur biting his lip, was enough to cause Merlin’s prick to twitch in sympathy. Arthur’s hand joined Merlin’s between them, encasing Merlin’s painfully hard cock.

Merlin’s body worked automatically, stroking up and down, ghosting his thumb around Arthur’s head, pushing back the foreskin to slide along his slit. His study of anatomy was finally being rewarded in the form of Arthur bucking into his hand and making desperate cries of pleasure into Merlin’s mouth, neck and hair.

Though less educated than Merlin, Arthur was no slacker when it came to pleasing Merlin. Mirroring movements he felt from Merlin’s attention, changing the speed and intensity of his strokes, he brought Merlin to the edge of orgasm several times before pulling him back. It was a game. A game with two winners, in the end. They pushed each other on by whispering encouragements and voicing their pleasure in answering moans. But like all good things this first encounter, too, had to end.

It was Arthur who begged for release first. “Please, gods Merlin,” he pled. “I’m so close.” Merlin tightened his fist and stroked him faster until Arthur cried out, hips stuttering in his release, the evidence of his orgasm painting Merlin’s stomach. Merlin kept his hand wrapped around Arthur, stroking him through his orgasm and holding him close through the aftermath. During his climax, Arthur’s hand stopped moving and soon Merlin’s arousal was too great to be ignored. He keened softly, “Arthur,” thrusting his neglected cock through Arthur’s slackened hand.

“Shit,” Arthur mumbled and he quickly resumed his attention on Merlin.

The buildup was unbearable. He could see the end in sight, he was perched on the edge but unable to go over. The need for release was so great he screwed his eyes closed and begged. “Please, please, oh gods Arthur! I need-”

“Tell me, Merlin,” Arthur said, spurring him on. “Tell me what you need.”

He knew what he needed, he needed the sweet kiss of pain, Kushiel’s gift, to push him over the edge. He forced his eyes open and stared into Arthur’s eyes. “Do what you did before.” He bit his lip and arched his back, twisting his neck for Arthur’s ease. “Bite me, please.” The next words came unbidden to his lips, “bite me hard enough to mark me. Mark me as yours.” He closed his eyes, neck still taut, Arthur’s hand still flying over his straining erection. “Please,” he keened once more before Arthur’s teeth sank into him.

The sharp pressure, the delicious curling of pain and pleasure that swept through him was so intense he shouted aloud, feeling the spark of orgasm finally rip through him, his body arching off the bed. Arthur’s hand stroked him through his climax, his teeth still buried in Merlin’s skin, lips bringing a bruise to the surface. Once he was spent Merlin flopped down onto the bed with an exhausted groan.

After a few moments of shivering and heavy breathing Arthur spoke. “We’ve made such a mess.” There was only happiness and light in his voice.

Merlin laughed and shook his head, disbelieving the turn his birthday had taken. “Indeed, we have,” he agreed. “Up, you.” He gently pushed on Arthur’s chest and the Prince complied, pushing himself up to sit on the edge of the bed. Merlin followed and stood, knees still weak from their activities. He walked to the desk they kept in the corner, thankful he had remembered to fill his ewer with water the night before, and wet a cloth.

Most of their mess ended up on him, inevitable when one is on the bottom of things. He made short work of his chest and hands, rinsing the cloth in his bowl before passing it over to Arthur to clean himself. They were both now clean but still very naked.

Merlin hugged his arms to himself, missing the warmth of the bed and crawled under the covers, shuffling Arthur’s legs from beneath the covers. He hummed in delight at their combined smell on the sheets. He turned his sleepy eyes to Arthur who looked at him expectantly. “Care to join me,” Merlin offered.

Arthur nodded. “For a little while, anyway.” He slipped beneath the covers and wrapped his arms around Merlin, tucking his head into Merlin’s neck. “Can’t be too much longer. Lancelot can only distract the staff for so long.” He yawned and kissed Merlin’s neck. “They’ll wonder where I am.”

Merlin nodded. Sleepy and content, he laid his hands over Arthur’s and burrowed into the sheets, feeling the Prince curl around him as they settled. The last thing he heard before he fell asleep was Arthur whispering, “happy birthday, Merlin.”


	14. Chapter 14

When Merlin woke it was morning and he was alone in his bed.

He didn’t notice Arthur’s absence at first, too preoccupied with his aching, throbbing head. But then he forced himself to sit up, groaning and clutching his head, and finally saw the room was bereft of his Prince.

He looked over to the other bed and saw Freya, still asleep, hair mussed with her dreaming, face turned to the wall and away from him. And yet the knowledge that he wasn’t totally alone didn’t remove the disappointment he felt at having woken up without his lover. Logically he knew they couldn’t have spent the full night together. Not only was their relationship not sanctioned by the court -never would be due to their stations and Arthur’s eventual need for an heir- but Gaius and Cecile would be furious. They would be angry at him for being so careless with his one attribute that would be his greatest attribute, his most valuable possession;his virginity. Not that they had done more than some satisfyingly heavy petting but they would never believe him even if he swore on his mother’s deathbed that he was still intact. To lose their trust in him would be devastating.

The King and Queen would also be up in arms, ashamed that their son and heir would waste his time on a courtesan as lowly as him. His future in Camelot might be subject to forfeit. And with it all future interludes with the Prince. His Prince.

Everyone would have been angry with them and Merlin, in the end, would catch all the backlash if they had been discovered.

And yet…

Sighing deeply he gingerly hefted himself out of bed. Still naked from the night’s activities he took the necessary steps to the ewer, grown warm with the morning sunshine filtering in through the window, and splashed himself with water to give himself a once over with a rag. He would make it a point to visit the baths later but for now this would have to do.

A small sound of waking came from Freya’s bed and Merlin rushed to cover himself, cursing his aching head in the process. He jammed his legs into pants, securing them just in time for Freya to roll over and blink awake.

“Morning, Merlin,” she yawned.

“Morning, Freya,” he replied before flopping back into bed. The scent of himself and Arthur rose up to meet him as he buried his face in his pillow. The memories of the night before screamed into his mind and he let out a pitiful moan of despair.

“What’s the matter, Merlin?”

Merlin shook his head, mashing his face into the pillow as he did so. “Nothing. Absolutely nothing,” he said with his voice muffled by the pillow. He heaved a heavy sigh. “Everything is as it should be.”

Freya huffed, unconvinced. She shuffled over to sit on Merlin’s bed and stroked the back of his head, smoothing the hair there. “I don’t think that’s true. You sound miserable. Is it still the family from yesterday?”

He hadn’t even thought about them. The memory of the executed family did nothing to soften his mood. He curled in on himself and clutched the pillow. “Not exactly. Though I’m still not over that.” He bit his quivering lip. The lingering traces of Arthur’s presence and the ghosts of the family had tears prickling behind his eyes. Desperate not to spend his morning in morose agony he closed his eyes and shook his head, forcing the tears back. “There’s nothing you can do to help. You wouldn’t want to know anyway,” he said hoping to dissuade her from her line of questioning.

“So sure, are you?” Freya sighed. She prodded Merlin until he shifted over and made her a space and she laid down next to him face-to-face. “You think I don’t know who was here last night?”

Merlin’s eyes snapped open and his jaw dropped in surprise. “How?”

“How do you think Arthur knew where to find you?” He smoothed hair out of his face and cupped his cheek. “Do you think he just knew on his own where you were?” Merlin whispered a soft “no” and Freya sniffed in amusement. “Course he didn’t. I told Lance and he told Arthur.”

The use of a nickname in reference to Lancelot surprised Merlin. “Lance?”

Freya blushed and averted her gaze. “Did you not think to ask where I was? Where Lancelot was last night?”

Merlin shrugged. “I thought about it,” he said carefully, not wanting to tell her that she had escaped his mind for the most part.

Freya chuckled without mirth, “no you didn’t.” She looked at the sheets sadly and trailed her finger in a swirling motion on the fabric.

Understanding dawned on his and Merlin shot upright, the motion making him dizzy. “Wait? You and Lancelot?”

Freya bit her lip and the blush on her cheeks deepened. She then looked up into Merlin’s eyes, tears glistening in her eyes. “You think you’re the only one with forbidden love?”

“Oh, Freya,” Merlin whispered. They clung to each other, tears slipping silently from beneath their lids. “I had no idea,” Merlin admitted.

“Of course you didn’t,” Freya said, sniffling. “No one was meant to know.” Her voice hardened. “Not much to know anyway.”

Merlin drew back enough to look at Freya, arms still holding her. “But he’s a Casseline.”

“I know, I know,” she sighed. “Bound by duty to serve only his assigned ward and to never have attachments of his own. No property, no wife, no children, no desire of his own. Protect and serve.” She closed her eyes, new tears slipping from beneath her lids. She said softly, “he’s never even kissed me and yet I can’t help but love him.”

Only one question came into his mind. “How?”

Freya sniffled and cleared her throat. “It began the first day we met. When you and the Prince argued.” She sighed and licked her lips. “He understood you both. He understood Arthur’s anger and fear. He understood your pride.” She smiled then and said, “and he was so courteous to me, kissing my hand as if I were a proper lady.” She wiped an errant tear from her cheek and examined it on her finger. “We’ve had our moments, here and there. Most often at night in the gardens while you and Gaius sleep.”

Merlin kissed her head and cradled her. “Does he love you in return.”

Her voice was muffled by her face being pressed into Merlin’s neck but he still heard the sad reply of, “I think so.” She sniffled and added, “I’ve never asked. I don’t know if I want to know the answer.” She moved to sit up and Merlin watched her wipe her face and swallow hard. “No use sitting here wallowing when there’s things to be done, is there?”

Merlin shook his head and suggested a trip to the baths. A good steaming soak would lift their spirits, he was sure. Some breakfast wouldn’t go amiss either. With their decision settled they dressed, their backs politely turned from each other, and then ventured out of their room in search of breakfast.

“Morning sleepyheads,” Gaius called cheerfully from the breakfast table. He was happily engrossed in his morning tea, inhaling the scent curling up from his mug. “Despite the unpleasantness from the execution yesterday, did you two fare well?”

“Well enough,” Merlin replied. “What do we have for breakfast?”

“Well you’re in luck.” Gaius pointed to a large covered dish sitting next to him on the table. “We had a delivery this morning from the kitchens. I waited for you two to get up before partaking.” Setting his mug on the table he reached over to lift the lid on the dish. “Let’s see what we have shall we?”

Under the lid lay a veritable feast compared to their usual breakfast of porridge or eggs. On the platter lay several slices of ham, a mound of scrambled eggs, slices of fresh peaches, and a whole loaf of bread. Gaius let out an impressed whistle.

“Well,” he said with a grin. He looked at his two fosterlings. “Care to explain this lovely gift?”

“No,” they both responded at once. Turning sheepishly to face each other, they blushed and sat down next to each other and dug in wordlessly, unsure of which high born man had sent the plate. Lancelot could had easily whispered a word to a kitchen hand and persuaded them to send the rare treat. Or Arthur could have requested a plate sent to them knowing that Merlin would have woken up alone with a massive headache.

It was a mystery for later perusing.

They talked amiably of small things. Gaius was meaning to spend some time with Ygraine after breakfast, seeing to her aches and pains and the fosterlings told him of their plan to visit the baths. They kept their conversation from the bedroom to themselves, not wanting to worry Gaius. A small lull occurred in the conversation and Gaius cleared his throat to break it, wiping his lips on a napkin.

“It occurs to me that you two seem to be getting a bit old to be sharing a room.” At their confused looks he continued. “You’re both of an age where some privacy might be warranted, hmm? You both a little too...developed to be sharing such intimate quarters.”

Merlin’s heart beat faster with uncertainty. “What do you suggest, Gaius?”

“Simply that it might be time for you and Freya to have separate rooms.” He drained the last of his tea, smiling at the lingering flavor. “I’m sure we can find something suitable. We have some options.”

“Like what,” Freya asked. “Well, if one of you wouldn’t mind a little less space there’s the store room here on the main floor. I’m sure we can rearrange some things out here to clear the space and make a new room for either yourself or Merlin to reside in.” He paused, standing up to retrieve the kettle to make a new cup of tea. “Or if Merlin finds the option suitable, Cecile has offered up a room in her own quarters for him to reside in.” He fixed his tea and resumed his seat. “It would be just across the hall and you would still see us every day, Merlin.” He took Merlin’s hand in his own to try and reassure him. “I don’t want you to leave us so soon but a decision must be made, I’m afraid.” He patted the boy’s hand and turned a fond eye on the two fosterlings. “I never thought you two would grow up so fast.”

He assured Merlin and Freya that a decision did not need to be made immediately and that they could discuss it amongst themselves. They nodded and rose from the table to head off towards the baths before Gaius stopped them. “Oh one more thing, Merlin.” They stopped to look at Gaius who added, “you still have a choice of a book from my collection. Think on it today and tell me which you would like.” At that Gaius shooed them out the door so he could ready himself for his rounds.

The foster siblings discussed the necessity of separate rooms as they walked. “He’s right, you know,” Freya prompted. “We really are too old to be sharing a room.”

Merlin nodded. “I’ll miss you though.” He worried his lip with his teeth. “I’ve never slept alone before. Before my mother was always there, then Gaius briefly and then you.” He looked at her with tired eyes, “you were always there when I woke.”

“I’ll still be there, silly.” She poked his ribs gently, “you just don’t get to see my incredible bed hair anymore and I don’t have to smell your morning breath from across the room.” She laughed at his shocked face.

“My morning breath is not that bad!” Freya just laughed and tugged him along to the corridor that led to the baths. Merlin’s face sobered. “That store room is too small for either of us, you know that right?”

Freya nodded. “It would have been too small for either of us when we were little.”

“That leaves us with one option,” Merlin supplied. “I’ll have to go live with Cecile.” Freya nodded wordlessly. Tears threatening to reappear he asked a question, fearing the answer. “Will you miss me, too?”

Freya stopped in her tracks. “Are you serious?” She punched his shoulder, “of course I’d miss you, you big clotpole.” She hugged him. “But you’ll come by every day, right?”

Merlin hugged her to him. “Wild horses couldn’t stop me.” Forcing himself to lighten the mood he chuckled and said, “we really need to get you to the baths. You reek.”

Freya punched him for his troubles and muttered, “look who’s talking,” and Merlin laughed as she stalked off to the entranceway to the baths, assuring her they would meet outside when they were done and find Gaius and Cecile afterwards.

On the men’s side of the bathhouse Merlin disrobed and made his way to the common pool. The water was warm and clean and the steam relaxed everything inside Merlin. He found an unoccupied corner and sat in the warmth of the water letting it remove all the tension in his body. Despite the sadness from this morning and the shock of having to move he found himself starting to relax. After using a bar of soap to scrub himself clean he closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the tiles while to soak.

“Whoa, look at that,” a voice near him exclaimed, startling him out of his peace.

He head whipped up to see three older boys, all stable hands from the looks of them _-dirt under their fingernails, the faint smell of horse lingering on them and a blade of straw still clinging to one of their heads-_ and they were pointing and cackling.

“What,” Merlin asked nervously. “Is there something on my face?”

“Not your face,” the one with straw in his hair laughed. “You get in a fight with a bat or something?”

Confusion contorted his expression until one of them waded over and pointed directly at his neck. “You got yourself a nice little bruise there. Wonder how you got it.”

Recognition punched him in the gut and his face grew hot with embarrassment. He self consciously reached up to touch the place he knew Arthur had bit him last night and found it tender to the touch. He had completely forgotten his passionate pleas from last night.

_Bite me. Mark me as your own, Arthur!_

Freya hadn’t mentioned it and Merlin’s jacket collar had hidden his neck from Gaius’s watchful eyes. He had forgotten entirely and now it was bared for the whole world to see. More laughter drew him from his internal recollection.

“Looks like he’s gotten his whoring started early, don’t it mates!”

Not looking for confrontation he tried to wade away from them and escape the pool. They blocked his path and continued to jeer him and poke him roughly, splashing water at him. All at once a wave of anger took over him, red clouding his vision and a voice that was altogether not his own possessed him.

 _“Stop it,”_ he said, drawing himself to his full height. He voice became iron, ungentle. _“I did not give you permission to touch me and this is a public space. You do not have permission to hold me here.”_ He crowded the boy directly in front of him and said, _“now please, remove yourself from my path.”_

The harshness of his voice and rigidity of his stance seemed to frighten the other boys and they parted, allowing him to pass. Once he had risen from the tub he snatched a towel from one of the attendants and strode out of the room, desperate to clothe himself and leave. Once he was out of the range of sight of those from the pool the red cloud dissipated from his eyes and he sagged against the wall feeling used up. Hollow.

“What the hell was that,” he whispered to himself.

After a few measured breaths he forced himself to move, to go back to the place where he left his clothes, dress and wait for Freya. He lingered outside the baths expecting to be wait a long while for his foster sibling. In the meantime he had to talk to the dragon. He reached out to the dragon in his mind.

_Dragon?_

_Yes, young wizard?_

_What just happened to me?_

_I don’t know, fledgling. You’ll have to enlighten me._

_I felt a...a presence. My vision went red and my voice was not my own._ _What happened?_

There was a long silence and Merlin thought that the dragon had forgotten him. And then the quiet broke. _What were you doing before this happened?_

_I was in the bath._

_Just in the bath?_ Merlin hesitated. But it was no good hiding anything from the dragon when he was inside Merlin’s mind. _Ah. You got angry. Why?_

_There were boys in the pool. They were harassing me. They wouldn’t let me leave._

The dragon murmured thoughtfully, _sounds like Kushiel is protecting you, boy_.

The thought startled him.

_Why would a god want to protect me?_

_You’re his vessel on earth, aren’t you? You’re one of Kushiel’s chosen. It would make sense that he would have a vested interest in your survival, wouldn’t it?_

The dragon’s words gave him pause. _But why? They were just poking fun and blocking my path. That’s no cause to inhabit his vessel, for something so small._

_Gods see so much. Who knows why he would intervene at one time and not at another. What I do know is that Kushiel has his reasons for everything. Don’t be so quick to question the gods until you see the larger picture, young anguisette._

The dragon didn’t offer any more insight and Merlin didn’t ask further questions. He sent a silent thank you to the dragon and stood there mulling over scene in the pool until Freya came out to meet him.

That afternoon saw the two fosterlings in their bedroom, behind locked doors, looking over Gaius’s magical texts. Merlin knew where the books were hidden now and had skimmed through several of the texts. He had gone through books that opened whole worlds to him that he didn’t know existed. There was a bestiary, several books on plants, a book that dealt specifically with healing magic that Freya had conveniently snatched and stubbornly sat down to read before Merlin had a chance to.

He had narrowed his choices down to three books. He laid them out on his bed, staring at their cover and wishing that the books themselves could talk and help with the decision. In front of him lay the book on dragon lore that he had coveted long ago. To the left of that a book on pleasure spells; gardening, cooking and lovemaking. To the right of the dragon book lay a book that dealt with water and how to bend it to one’s own purpose. The merits of each were innumerable, each one helpful and relevant to his interests and his future. He eventually laid aside the book on water bending, thinking that it would be harder to practice such magic inside Camelot and therefore not as useful as the other two.

The picture of the stylized dragon on the book Dragorn stared him down while the other book, _Simple Pleasures in a Magical Home_ sat in silent contrast. If he ever got the chance to be more domestic, and he didn’t even know if he wanted that kind of life, this book would help a lot. Cooking and cleaning, purposeful gardening and mending clothes were all things he hadn’t been taught. Most of the love spells in it’s pages were fairly tame and nothing he wouldn’t be able to handle without magic, being trained as he was.

That settled things. _Dragorn_ would be entrusted to him.

He nudged Freya, drawing her face from the healing book and asked for her help reshelving the forbidden books. She frowned at the book in her hands and asked, “my birthday is in a month. You think Gaius will let me keep this?”

“Maybe. You should ask him.”

Together they got the books back in their hiding places, excluding the two books that the siblings became attached to. Those remained on their beds while they worked. Just as the last of the books that guarded the magical library was replaced Gaius returned home.

“What a day,” he said, laying down his satchel. “My feet are absolutely swollen and aching.”

Freya dropped down to her knees in front of him and took his slippers off. “You really should entrust more of your rounds to me,” she said fondly. “You’re getting too old to do so much bustling about. A man of your age-”

Gaius sniffed, “a man of my age? A man of my age should continue going until he can’t anymore.” He sighed happily when Freya began to rub his feet, a job that Merlin didn’t envy. “Once you stop busying yourself,” he gesticulated, stabbing a finger in the air, “that is when death comes for you.”

“Still,” Freya said, rubbing her thumbs into the arches of Gaius’s right foot. “You should let me help more. Put my mind at ease.”

Merlin busied himself with putting the kettle on to boil. “Did your rounds go well today,” he asked.

“Quite. Ygraine is looking livelier today and is able to join the family in the dining room for dinner tonight and Nimueh has spent her first full day out of bed. Though she may be on the side of Morgause I’ve pitied her loss and sadness. Her’s is a pain I don’t wish on anyone.”

Merlin nodded in understanding. Freya started in on Gaius’s left foot and their foster father grunted at the kinks being worked out from his foot. “Have you chosen your book, Merlin?”

“I have. The dragon lore book.”

Gaius smiled. “I figured as much. That’s a very practical choice, Merlin. I hope you enjoy it more than I have. It’s been of little use to me in the past but I knew it should go to someone deserving.”

Merlin smiled and nodded. He cleared his throat and gestured to Freya, “Freya has a question for you, Gaius.”

Freya stilled her ministrations and glared at Merlin. She mouthed _now?_ at him and he nodded emphatically.

“Yes, Freya?”

“Uhm, well,” she licked her lips nervously.

“Come now, don’t be shy with me,” Gaius said gently.

“Well, it’s just that...when I was helping Merlin with the books there was this book on healing magic and I just-”

“You wanted to know if you could keep it?” Freya nodded silently and Gaius chuckled. “Can’t keep anything from you two for long, can I?” He sighed and shook his head in amusement. “Well, I suppose you can,” Freya stood up to hug him, a shriek of delight on her lips, and Gaius help out a finger of warning. “But you must also find your own hiding spot and you must let me help you with some of those spells. Neither of you have practiced much magic but this, at least, I have experience in.”

“Absolutely! Oh, thank you, Gaius!” She hugged him tightly and ran to hug Merlin and ran up the stairs to their room saying something about “want to reread that spell on removing boils again” before slamming the door tightly behind her. Gaius smiled after her laughing quietly to himself before noticing Merlin staring after him. “Is there something else, Merlin? Shouldn’t you be up there happily breezing through your own new book?”

Merlin swallowed thickly and nodded. “Actually there was.” Just then the kettle whistled and he paused his speech long enough to make two mugs of tea. He dragged a chair to sit next to Gaius unsure he could get through his speech without breaking.

“What’s the matter, my dear boy?”

“Freya and I talked,” he began. “About the separate rooms.”

“Did you two decide?”

Merlin nodded. “If Cecile is still amenable to having me I would like to stay with her.” He made himself smile at Gaius. “After all, it is just across the hall. Not far at all.”

Gaius set his tea aside and Merlin did the same before the old physician collected the boy in his arms. “I will miss you in my home, Merlin. You know that you are welcome here any time. Day or night.”

Merlin nodded and hugged Gaius tighter. They parted and Gaius patted Merlin’s cheek before picking up his mug and taking a sip. He hummed in pleasure. “You know,” he said into his mug, “you need to teach Freya how to make tea before you leave. You always make a perfect cup of tea.”

Merlin laughed and took a sip of his own. “She brews hers too long,” he said fondly. “Scorches the leaves.” “I’ll have to tell her.”

A knock came at the door, dragging them from their conversation. "Now who could that be?”

Merlin hopped off his chair and answered the door to reveal a royal messenger. “Everything alright,” he asked.

“Yes Master Merlin. Just delivering this letter for you.” Merlin took the letter, saying a quick thanks to the messenger and shutting the door. There was no name on the envelope but then he turned the letter over and found the seal of the house of Pendragon. His breath caught in his throat and he licked his lips.

“What is it, Merlin?” Gaius startled his panicking thoughts.

“Nothing. Just a letter from Gwaine. Nothing to be worried about.” _He’s breaking up with you, his mind shouted at him. He regrets last night, regrets you, this is the end._ “I’ll just go up to read it.” He picked up his mug and kissed Gaius’s cheek before heading up the stairs. “Good night, Gaius.”

“Good night, Merlin.”

Once safely ensconced in his room he set the mug on their desk and tore open the seal, the sound of rustling paper drawing Freya’s face from the pages of her new book. “What’s that?”

“Letter from Arthur.” Freya closed the book and hopped off her bed. “Open it! What does it say?”

He was silent while he read it. His heart hammering and lungs tight with nervousness, convinced that this was the end but it wasn’t. He had to read it two more times before he was convinced but in the end he was.

 

 

_Merlin,_

_I’m incredibly sorry I couldn’t stay to watch you wake. You were so peaceful while you slept, your face so beautiful in the moonlight that I was loathe to disturb your rest even though all I wanted was to kiss you awake and thank you for a lovely evening. I hope you enjoyed the breakfast. I’m told it’s common courtesy to share breakfast with your lover. Is it okay to call you that? I hope it is. Even though we were parted we shared the same meal and I wish that one day we might do it in the same room._

_I was held all day in a conference with my father today and so this letter must do to tell you my sincere apologies and I hope that you aren’t cross with me. Hope your day was wonderful. I’ll call for you tomorrow._

_With all my affection,_

_Arthur_

 

Merlin let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding and Freya was buzzing with concern and excitement. “Well,” she asked.

“We’re lovers,” he said dreamily. He beamed at Freya, dropping the paper to hug her close. “He called me his lover.”

Surprised at being clutched at so suddenly Freya yelped and clutched him for balance. “What exactly happened here last night?”

Merlin laughed and sat down with her to tell her the whole story.


	15. Chapter 15

The next morning, after they broke their fast, Gaius and Merlin called on Cecile. The conversation was quick and to the point; Merlin would gladly receive Cecile’s very kind offer to stay in her home. Pleased that they accepted her offer, she gave him a tour of her quarters, slightly larger than Gaius’s. Walking down a short hallway she motioned to a set of closed doors and marked them as the entranceway to her room. She stopped in front of a painting that she had had commissioned after the death of her foster father Anafiel.

“He quite handsome,” Merlin remarked, eyes trailing over the man’s deep, copper hair that had just begun to have a touch of grey at the temples.

“Yes he was,” Cecile mused, a touch of sadness in her voice. “He died much too young.”

Gaius took Cecile’s hand and ran a thumb comfortingly across her knuckles. “Most good people do.”

She hummed thoughtfully in reply and turned sharply down the hallway and beckoned for them to follow. Gaius followed immediately but Merlin took an extra moment to look at the man in the portrait. It seemed that he and Cecile had more in common than either had realized. A nod of acknowledgement to the portrait and Merlin made to follow his mentors.

The hallway took turned right and Cecile waited at the juncture for Merlin to catch up. She gestured to a door on the left. “This will be your room, Merlin.” She opened the door and swung it open, gesturing for him to have a look inside.

It was a much larger room than he had expected, larger than the one he had shared with Freya. It had a large bed that had already been made up with luxurious sheets and comforter of a deep red color. The room was lovingly decorated in dark wine colors and rich darkwood furniture. He had a large window that gave him a view of the courtyard where, currently, the royal guard were running drills. The walls and shelving were bare, ready for his view possessions and against the wall opposite the window loomed a large wardrobe.

When his eyes fell on it he heard Cecile’s encouraging voice telling him to open it. He did so without hesitation and found it had already been stocked with fine clothes, much more fine than he had become accustomed to. His jaw dropped and he turned his shocked gaze on Cecile.

“I do hope that at least some of them fit.” She crossed into the room and fingered the delicate linen of one of the shirts. “My dear brother Alcuin had such fine taste.” She smiled fondly at the clothes and then at Merlin. She turned her smile on him and continued, “later we’ll see which of these fit and whatever doesn’t will be put away. You two have such similar frames, I’m sure most of it will suit you.”

She turned to face Gaius, whose face was expressionless, and asked, “do you two find the arrangements suitable?”

Merlin looked at Gaius. He could feel excitement tugging at his gut while grief threatened to draw more tears from him. He knew that he would miss Gaius’s presence in his everyday life but he also knew that this was for the best. Besides Freya and him getting too old to share a room they were also growing more and more into the roles they had to play. Every day Freya grew more adept at healing while Merlin squirreled away all his theoretical knowledge and honed whatever skills he was allowed to practice for his future in seduction. Their worlds were rapidly changing and growing apart and he knew that now. He nodded once to Gaius, afraid that if he spoke a sob would replace the words he meant to say.

Gaius nodded in return and spoke to Cecile. “Thank you, Cecile. The arrangements are, indeed, better than we could have ever asked for. You are truly a generous friend.” He smiled at her to seal his words with sentiment.

“Merlin is a fine young man,” Cecile replied. “He deserves this and more. You just be sure to keep that lovely Freya on her path.” She gestured to the fine trappings in the room and added, “maybe one day she could repay your generous hospitality to her with a fine room of your own.”

Gaius chuckled, “perhaps in time.” He beckoned Merlin over to him and Merlin went to him. “I think we’ll spend one more night together as a family, Cecile.” He patted Merlin’s shoulder lightly, “we’ll have his things brought here in the morning.”

“Of course, Gaius. Take all the time you need. Might I keep Merlin for a while longer, though. There’s one last thing I’d like to show him. Then he will be returned to you so you may spend the day together.”

“I believe that’s acceptable. I’ll see you at home, Merlin.” With that he bowed shallowly at Cecile, patted Merlin once more on the shoulder and walked out of the room. “I can see my way out,” he called over his shoulder. The sound of footsteps faded and they heard a door close and then they were alone.

Cecile took a step towards Merlin. “I’m very pleased that you accepted my invitation.”

“I’m very happy that you offered.” He bowed a short bow to his mentor. “I know that this is a fantastic opportunity. I endeavor to ensure you never regret it.” He said it with a smile and Cecile returned it.

“Follow me,” she said softly before striding out of the room. Merlin followed after closing the still open wardrobe. She walked down the hallway to a set of double doors that were larger than any others, save the doors of the main entrance. She stopped just in front of them and turned to face Merlin.

“Behind these doors are my livelihood.” She took a deep breath and added, “today I will show you what an assignation room, _**my** assignation_ room looks like.”

“You still take on patrons?” Merlin hadn’t known at all, though he wasn’t terribly surprised.

Cecile smiled and shrugged, “retirement can be very boring and I enjoy the finer things in life.” She turned and opened the doors wide. “ _Assignations_ provide both income and excitement.”

The room was dark inside and Merlin could only make out large shadows from furniture in the room. Cecile walked comfortably inside and lit the sconces that lined the wall and then once she had made her circle around the room he could see everything. It was huge. It was twice the size of the room she had given Merlin and he had thought that had been a generous amount of space.

Against the far wall, in the center, was a huge fireplace with a marble mantle. In front of it lay a dark brown fur that beckoned to be laid upon. Merlin knew it would be soft and plush if he were to lay his cheek upon it. But then his eye was drawn to a bed that was fit for a king on one side of the room. The posts of the bed had been adorned with leather straps that led to cuffs, dangling at the edges of the bed, one for each limb. There were black satin sheets and a few pillows but no comforter or blanket, obviously not meant to be slept in. Next to the bed was a wardrobe that bore a similar resemblance that resided in his new room, though he doubted there were clothes in it. Before he could ask what was in it Cecile invaded his thoughts.

“Should I show you what is in there?” Merlin nodded wordlessly and Cecile made her way across the room to open it. The doors swung out and then Merlin lost his breath.

On each door hung all manner of striking implements; rods, canes, a whip that hung coiled on a hook, floggers and paddles. She listed them all, pointing out each one in turn. In the depths of the wardrobe there were small wooden boxes that held all manner of seduction implements. Inside one were lovingly tended wooden phalluses of varying size. Inside another were coils of rope that Cecile had said were for further body restraint. He admitted his ignorance for such skills and she said, “of course you don’t know. I haven’t taught you.” There were clamps for nipples, several swaths of cloths for blindfolds, jars of oil for lubricant and massage and many other things. Merlin’s attention flitted from one object to the next and it was incredibly overwhelming to finally be allowed further into his future life.

Without warned Cecile closed the wardrobe. Merlin was about to protest. He wanted to see, touch, learn more but Cecile stopped him before he could argue. “I’ve kept you quite long enough. But before you go you’ll share a cup of tea with me and we’ll discuss a few things.”

Over cups of fragrant rose tea Cecile spoke her mind.

“First off, I want you to know that, while they are rare, I still do take assignations as you could tell from the room I showed you. I always take them here in my home. I will always give you advanced notice but I must request total privacy when I do take a patron.” She took a sip of her tea before continuing. “Discretion and satisfaction, above all, is very important when pleasuring a client. Most people do not wish their peers to know whom they have spent an evening of passion with.”

“I understand,” Merlin obliged.

“So when I take a patron I will arrange for you to stay elsewhere for the evening. Like as not, that will be Gaius but not always.” She drained her cup and moved on. “Next thing is that from here on out your training will now mostly focus on the bodily arts and not in books. You only have one more year to prepare yourself to be auctioned. We obviously want your starting price to be high so we will be attending many events together to....let’s say bring attention to yourself.” She smiled at his apprehension. “Never worry about any future patrons. Gaius and myself will take the utmost care in going through the bids for your virgin price and assure your consent before the contract is signed.”

“What happens after that?” Merlin swallowed nervously. “After I’m sold for the first time, what happens after that?”

“You’re a different case than most, Merlin. Most young adepts live and train in a pleasure house and they agree to take on any patrons that choose them.” She waggled her finger in his direction, “but with you. You’re special. You’re an _anguisette_. I wish to make it so that you will have the choice of any of the finest, rich patrons the world has to offer.” She offered, “perhaps we might make a trip to Londinium and ply your skills in a bigger ponds. Who knows how far you could go if you do well in your work.”

Merlin nodded, “that’s a lot to think about, Cecile.”

“I know it is, my dear.” She moved to sit next to him on his settee and draped an arm over his shoulders. “It is much to think about. Overwhelming at times, yes?”

A terrifying thought occurred to him just then. “Will my life ever be my own?”

Her answer was not what he expected. “Is anyone’s life truly their own?”

Merlin didn’t answer and he didn’t ask any more questions. While Cecile carefully stacked their tea dishes on a tray she listed the rest of her requirements while he lived with her. Of course, most importantly, he would not fraternize with anyone romantically. Emotional ties made his work tricky, especially in the beginning, and his most valuable asset was in his virginity. He dared not share his experiences of intimacy with Arthur knowing that she would not take to the information kindly. All of her other rules were based on his presentation to the world and his agreement to work hard at his studies. “I think we’ll get along splendidly,” she said as she showed him to the door.

He left his future home with a wealth of new information and trepidation of the family gathering to come. He walked the short distance to the ever familiar door he had to grown up behind and entered. There Freya and Gaius were, puttering around the kitchen area in a flurry of activity. The sound of the door closing stopped their movements.

“Merlin,” Freya said softly.

“My dear boy,” Gaius whispered fondly. “Come, tonight will be a night for celebration. Not despair.”

Gaius showed him to the table and the sight made his eyes water. There was a bottle of wine uncorked and breathing, a whole chicken that was accompanied by a bowl of greens and potatoes. Lastly, sitting off to the side like an afterthought, was a small honey cake adorned with nuts and rose petals.

This type of meal was not his accustomed fare. Even as well respected and paid as Gaius was they were still not of a higher class. Most of their money went towards Merlin and Freya’s education. Much of what was left Gaius used to help those who could not help themselves, buying the ingredients for possets and draughts and expecting little to no payment in return. A meal like this was a luxury.

“How,” Merlin gasped.

“I have always saved a penny or two for a rainy day,” Gaius said slyly.

“This is more than a penny’s worth, Gaius.”

“Well, Lancelot helped. A little,” Freya supplied. She whispered loudly, “he helped with the cake.”

 _If Lancelot knew did that mean that Arthur knows too_ , Merlin asked himself.

“Come, Merlin.” Gaius guided him to a chair and sat him down. “Do not think of the ‘hows’. Focus on the ‘whys’.” He poured the wine and handed him a cup and then did the same for Freya. “And the ‘why’ is because we will miss you terribly.”

With his own cup of wine in hand he spoke to both his fosterlings. “You two have grown up so beautifully and so quickly, it’s amazing. Your parents would have been so proud and you both have made me extremely proud. I hate to see you leave us so soon but life sometimes directs us to better things than we could have imagined.” He raised his glass. “To newer and better things, Merlin.”

The three of them clinked their glasses together and took a sip. The grim silence grew heavy and then Gaius spoke again, “enough of these tears! Time for tears later! I’m afraid the chicken is getting cold so let’s tuck in, shall we?” And just like that they were laughing and things didn’t seem so sad. In time the food disappeared and the wine followed. At the end they each spooned generous bites of honey cake into their mouths, all sharing one plate. The night was a happy one, filled with stories and laughter and light.

When the evening drew upon them Gaius drew himself up from the table. “I begged off of my rounds for the day but I simply must check in on the Queen and Nimueh before the evening is out. Don’t wait up for me as I’m sure the Queen will keep me some time.” He gathered a few items and bid the two foster siblings a good evening. Shortly afterward Freya excused herself to work on a couple of the spells from her book and Merlin was left alone staring into the flame of the candle that flickered on the table. He knew he should be packing his few belongings but he couldn’t bring himself to move. The heaviness of moving settled on him and he was fit to sulk for a good long while before a knock at the door forced him to retreat from inside his head.

At the door was Lancelot.

“Lancelot? Might I ask what you’re doing here?”

“I was sent by someone who desires your presence.”

Merlin nodded, “give me a minute.” He closed the door on Lancelot and ran back to his room where Freya had retreated to. “Freya,” he whispered. Her head shot up from the book and he said, “Lancelot is here.” A small glimmer shone in her eyes. “He’s going to take me to Arthur.”

The trace of hope turned to pained longing and she let her eyes drop to her book. “Oh,” was all she was capable of uttering.

“Come with us. Keep Lancelot company.” She leveled him with her eyes and bit her lower lip. “Do you think he’d welcome my company?”

Merlin shrugged, “I don’t know. Worth a shot, right?”

A decision was made and she rushed to shove her illegal book under her bed and straighten her hair. She smoothed the wrinkles from her dress as they made their way back to the door where Lancelot waited. Merlin pushed her ahead of him wanting to watch Lancelot’s face, gauge his reaction to his sister.

When she opened the door Lancelot’s head was turned to look down the hall. He seemed distracted and he spoke to Merlin without taking his eyes off the hall. “Are you ready, Merlin?”

“He’s ready,” Freya answered for him. At the sound of her voice his head whipped around and his eyes went wide. He had steeled the rest of his face, had learned from a young age to control his reactions. But his eyes. They locked onto her and seemed to call for her and Merlin wept inside. His heart ached with the knowledge that two people, one of whom he loved like none other, would be forever parted by duty.

A fate he would share in. Ever too soon for his liking.

“Freya,” Lancelot whispered reverently. “What are you doing?”

Freya smiled shyly. “Merlin said you would want some company.”

Then the Casseline looked up at him. Merlin nodded at him and pushed Freya out the door and followed, closing the door behind them. He kept his eyes on Lancelot and the two young men eyed each other. Whatever he saw in Merlin it was enough. “Come, we must hurry. He’ll be waiting.”

They made their way to the gardens together quietly, moving like wraiths. They reached the gates and there Lancelot stopped. He pointed down the path that lead to the darkened inner paths of the garden. “He’ll be at the end underneath the oak. I’ll come for you should there be any trouble.”

Merlin nodded his thanks. He spoke to Freya, “you’ll be okay?”

Freya smiled, “just fine, Merlin. Go.” She shooed him off and off he went without a glance behind him.

The path was dark, only the light of the cloudy moon to light the way. He passed flowers and shrubs aplenty and the night air held the scent of moon flowers. It was peaceful and yet his heart raced. His Prince had called to him.

When he reached the end of the path he found Arthur, just as Lancelot said he would. He stood beneath the great oak, the largest tree in the gardens, with his back turned to the path, his face staring up into the branches. The crunching of Merlin’s feet on the path alerted him and all at once Arthur’s smiling face was on him.

He couldn’t stop himself. The sight of Arthur, his lover, forced him into the arms of the Prince without a second thought. Distantly he warned himself,  _not proper, he’s royalty, you should have waited for him to make the first move_. But when Arthur’s arms circled him and held him tight he couldn’t bring himself to care.

“Merlin,” Arthur sighed.

“Arthur,” he returned.

“I missed you.” The Prince pressed a kiss into Merlin’s hair. Merlin’s heart leapt in response.

He wanted to tell him the same but instead he laughed quietly, “You just saw me a day ago.”

“Would that I could see you every day.” One of Arthur’s hands traveled up Merlin’s back to rest at the base of his neck. They pulled away gradually, unwilling to part an inch but both needing to see one another.

Without words they moved their faces close. Merlin opened up beneath Arthur’s searching lips, letting his tongue inside to taste. The _anguisette’s_ hands slid up over Arthur’s chest, mapping the muscles. The newness of such intimacy made Merlin’s knees weak and he swayed on his feet. Arthur held him close and leaned back into the bark of the tree, all without them parting.

Eventually they had to come up for air.

“I missed you too,” Merlin confessed.

Arthur cupped Merlin’s cheek and smiled at him. “I know.” Slowly he slid down the trunk of the tree, pulling Merlin with him, until they were sitting on the ground. Rather, till Arthur was on the ground and Merlin was situated in Arthur’s lap. “I wish I could have been there to watch you wake.”

Merlin laughed, “I have heard from my sister that my appearance in the morning leaves much to be desired.”

Arthur’s answering chuckle made Merlin smile wider. “Well, she is your sister. She doesn’t get to see what I see.” He kissed Merlin softly, “strange that you still share a room though.”

Merlin’s smile faded. “After tonight we won’t.” His eyes closed and he breathed deeply. “I am to move tomorrow.”

He felt Arthur stiffen beneath him. “What? Where?”

The panic in Arthur’s voice was both relief and happiness to Merlin. He took Arthur’s head in his hands and kissed his forehead. “Don’t worry, my dear Prince. It’s just down the hall. I am to live with my mentor, Cecile Perrin.”

Arthur relaxed and wrapped his arms around Merlin tighter. “Good.” He seemed unwilling to say anymore and so Merlin let him have his peace. Instead of pressing he shifted so that he was seated on the ground between Arthur’s legs and his back was to Arthur’s chest. Settled in the cage of Arthur’s limbs he leaned his head back against Arthur’s shoulder and looked up at the tree above them.

Through the many leaves and limbs of the great oak Merlin could just make out the night sky above them. Flickering stars peeked out from behind fluttering leaves and the moon cast gentle shadows to sheathe the two boys. It was peaceful and Merlin relaxed completely, surrendering to the calm. They sat there, quietly enjoying the soft sounds of the night birds, the whispers of the leaves and the sound of each other breathing. Merlin wished that they could be like this every night. He wanted to find constant solace and happiness in Arthur. Wanted Arthur to be his rock, his safe harbor forever.

The ever looming reality of them never being able to be forever was rapidly stealing from him their peace and he endeavored to stop it immediately. He would not let sadness overwhelm. Not when he had Arthur here and now.

“I’ll have my own room at Cecile’s, you know.”

“Is that so?”

Merlin nodded, “and a rather large bed. New clothes. It’s a fine home. I just saw everything today.”

“That’s rather generous of Lady Perrin.”

“Indeed it is.” And then he remembered something wonderful. “Do you know what else?”

“What’s that, Merlin?”

“Cecile also said that I was to attend court with her more often.” He twisted his head round to face Arthur. “We would get more chances to see each other.” He waggled his eyebrows. “Legitimate reasons to converse in public. Your father is often in the company of Vivianne who is often in the company of myself and Cecile.”

Arthur smiled widely. “I’ll be sure your name is on all her invitations.”

“So when’s the next party,” Merlin asked happily.


	16. Chapter 16

The next year flew by. Merlin was moved into Cecile’s home with extreme efficiency and almost immediately he was pushed into higher echelons of society he hadn’t been previously allowed. Being at Cecile’s side meant that he was nearer to the royal family on a regular basis, which meant more encounters with Arthur. Despite being the fosterling of the King’s physician, Merlin was usually an after thought in grand events. But being the protege of a famous courtesan had it’s advantages. Merlin attended parties, poetry readings, and many of Vivianne’s concerts for the royal family at her specific request.

One event that stuck out that year was the Prince’s birthday.

His seventeenth was low key, as far as royal celebrations go. There was music and feasting aplenty but nothing overtly extravagant. Cecile had been invited and so Merlin was allowed to attend as well. Of course he danced and Cecile introduced him to people who had visited for the Prince’s birthday, knowing them personally from her time in Brittany. The party itself was nothing special.

Merlin remembered that night so fondly because it was a night of revelation.

After he had been excused by his mentor Merlin made his way back to his new quarters. Once he was inside his apartments he stiffened. He could sense another person’s presence. But he wasn’t frightened. There was only one person who could be waiting for him. “Isn’t there a party you should be a attending,” he called out into the darkness.

From a shadowy corner of the sitting room a large figure moved. He moved towards Merlin with an easy saunter, arms crossed. “It’s my party. I think I’ll leave whenever I like,” the Prince said with a smirk. “Did you enjoy yourself?”

Merlin nodded. “I did indeed. You father brought out that delightful blackberry wine you shared with me ages ago.”

Arthur stopped just in front of him and smiled, bringing his hands to rest at Merlin’s shoulders. “Is that the only reason you attended?”

Smiling and biting his lip, Merlin shook his head. “No. I wanted to catch a peek at the crowned prince. I hear he’s quite handsome.”

“Oh do you now?” Merlin nodded and the Prince went on. “And what would you say if I told you the prince found you quite attractive as well?”

“I’d say he’s rather mad to being ogling a commoner,” Merlin waggled his eyebrows and earned a laugh for his trouble. He bridged the distance between them with his lips. They held each other captive for several minutes finally enjoying each other after several days apart. Arthur had been so busy with the preparations of his celebration that they had had no time for each other. When they finally parted Merlin pressed their foreheads together and he sighed deeply, contented. “Happy birthday, Arthur.”

“Thank you,” the Prince replied politely.

“Would you like to see your present?”

“You have a present for me?” The Prince pulled back fractionally to eye Merlin. “You didn’t have to.”

“I know I didn’t but I figured I would give you something all the same.” He pressed a small kiss to Arthur’s lips before stepping out of the Prince’s arms and into the hallway towards his room. “Are you coming,” he called behind him. The sound of footsteps following him was all he needed to hear in response.

When they reached his room Merlin hesitated. Arthur had never seen his room before. In the few months he had been at Cecile’s he hadn’t dared to try and bring the Prince into his quarters. It was too dangerous. But now that they would be alone for several hours he wanted it more than anything. He always wanted to share with Arthur everything.

And yet he hesitated.

“If you’d rather wait here,” Merlin began before getting cut off by Arthur’s quick voice.

“I’d love to see your new room. You’ve talked about it before it’s made me curious.” He moved to push past Merlin in his usual manner of brashness but then he stopped just before his fingers touched the doorknob. “That is,” he stammered, “if you’d let me see it. Please?”

Merlin took a deep breath and nodded, replacing his hand on the knob and letting them both into the room.

The moon was full that night, lighting up the whole room in a silver glow. It sent beautiful ripples of light across his pristinely made bed, the dark red almost black in the dim. Arthur’s eyes went wide as he scanned the room. Merlin was glad that he had added a few pictures to his walls, just a few flowers that he had painted from the garden in his spare time, for they added more life and comfort to the room than the bare walls had. His shelves were still mostly empty due to his few possessions but what was there was neat and inviting. He hadn’t given much thought to how his room looked before, but with Arthur standing in the middle of it he suddenly felt a little self conscious.

“I know it’s not much. I’d like to get some more books, a few more paintings. But it’s comfortable, don’t you think?”

Arthur nodded, “it’s a lovely room, Merlin. Lots more space than that little broom closet you shared with Freya.” He turned his smiling eyes on Merlin and the boy let out a breath of relief.

“You didn’t seem to mind it too much,” Merlin pointed out.

“That’s because the person in the room was much more interesting.” He recollected Merlin into his arms and kissed him. “Your new bed is absolutely an improvement.”

“I agree.”

From there the evening stretched into sighs and shouts caught carefully in each other’s mouths and shoulders. Limbs entwined, traveling hands and open mouths. They hadn’t had much of an opportunity to share each other’s bodies and they took full advantage of their gift of time. When they had both spent themselves and sunk into the soft mattress of Merlin’s bed Merlin remembered the original reason for their coming into his room.

“I completely forgot about your present,” he said sleepily into Arthur’s neck.

Arthur groaned softly, wrapping his arms around Merlin’s body, hugging him close. “You’re all the present I need, Merlin.”

Merlin laughed and shook his head, “you’re stealing my words now, are you?”

“They were true words. Why shouldn’t I?”

“All the same,” Merlin replied, pushing himself up from Arthur’s embrace. “I still have something for you.”

Leaving Arthur in his sheets, he slipped out of bed and walked over to his shelves. Nestled between several other books was a small book of poetry. He plucked it from the shelf and brought it back to the bed. He handed the book to Arthur and nestled himself behind the Prince, his chin on Arthur’s shoulder while he regarded his gift.

“Poems?”

Merlin chuckled, “yeah, thought you might like some culture stuffed into that warrior head of yours.” He kissed the shoulder he had been leaning on before extending a hand to open the book. He flipped the pages until a loose piece of thin parchment made itself apparent. He slid the paper from between the pages of the book and held it out for Arthur to take. “Open it.”

Arthur took the paper gently, setting aside the book. When he opened it his breath caught and Merlin worried his bottom lip. Pressed into the paper, nestled there since the spring, were three dried primroses. “Poems and flowers,” Arthur asked with uncertainty.

Merlin kissed the back of Arthur’s neck and breathed in his scent. Now was the time to explain.

“I’ve learned in my studies that there is a language to flowers.” He kept his eyes on the fragile petals and closed his eyes while he spoke. “Gaius told me the medicinal uses for many flowers and plants when I was young, before I came to know what I was. But later, Cecile told me their true meaning.”

“And the meaning of these?” Arthur’s head swiveled to look at Merlin but he kept his eyes closed and his head bent.

“Primroses,” he supplied immediately. But then Merlin hesitated, licking his lips. Not wanting to draw out his explanation any more painfully than he already had, he pushed forward through his nervousness and said, “They are a symbol of young love.”

Merlin hoped that Arthur understood, that his meaning was clear. Arthur returned his gaze to the flowers and remained silent. The young _anguisette_ trembled with nerves, almost ready to flee from the bed. He had tried many times to guess how his confession was to be received and most of them ended in tears. Only in his deepest, most sincere dreams, had he allowed himself to fantasize about Arthur saying the words he so desperately wanted to say so plainly right now; _I love you._

It was such a small, simple phrase. And it stuck in his throat, trying to force itself back down.

And then Arthur surprised him.

He gently refolded the parchment and slid it back between the pages of the book. He placed the book on Merlin’s nightstand and then finally turned his gaze fully onto Merlin. Arthur’s gaze was so intense that Merlin could do nothing but stare back, scared of the response he would receive but unable to look away. He was about to break the silence when Arthur leaned in and kissed him.

It was so soft and gentle. Comforting, full of love. Merlin whimpered into the touch of lips, relieved that he hadn’t frightened the Prince away. There were tears in his eyes when they parted and resumed looking at each other. Arthur settled his hand on Merlin’s cheek and smiled fondly. “You’ve given me the best of gifts Merlin.” He pressed another quick kiss to the corner of Merlin’s lips and whispered, “I love you too.”

“Gods, Arthur,” Merlin whispered back, so elated that Arthur had understood. “I love you.”

They sunk into the bed wrapped around each other. They kissed until their lips were sore and their lungs were empty of breath. By the time they had drunk their fill of each other the gray light of dawn was stealing into the room and it was time for Arthur to leave. They dressed in reluctant haste, not wanting their time together to end.

Merlin walked Arthur to the door and stuck his head out to be sure the coast was clear. Holding the door open he gestured for Arthur to walk through with an extended hand. Arthur caught it in his own and pulled it to his lips to kiss his knuckles. The action sent shivers down his spine and he had to close his eyes against the intimacy. Despite their actions that evening, their confessed loved, every little movement of love from Arthur turned his body to quaking liquid. He opened his eyes to see Arthur smiling up at him. With a final kiss upon his lips the Prince crept out into the hallway and Merlin crept off towards his bed.

After that life progressed. The fall passed quickly and the winter followed suit. From the night of Arthur’s birthday on they could no longer deny each other a kiss, if not more, a day. Lancelot made his worries known, the climbing danger of their situation leaving Lancelot in a constant state of anxiety, their need for him to arrange meetings growing ever more. Only Lancelot, Morgana and Frey knew that they met in secret. Only Freya and Lancelot knew the depth of their love and it both elated and saddened Merlin. He wished that he could shout from the tallest tower in Camelot that he loved the most amazing man in the world. But it was enough, for the time, being to whisper it to Freya in the deepest shadows of the night.

Lancelot and Freya continued to dance around their feelings for each other, unwilling to share their thoughts and desires, both knowing they could never be. They each knew, in their own way, that their love was returned but impossible. Lancelot often threw himself into his training to dull his mind and stop thinking of her and Freya took on more of Gaius’s responsibilities to remove Lancelot from her mind.

That spring Sir Valiant made a request to court Freya and she accepted. When she told Merlin she did so with tears in her eyes. “How can Lance expect me to live my life without love?” she had asked. “Life must go on and Sir Valiant is free to marry where Lancelot is not.”

“Do you think you can be content with him,” Merlin had asked. He received no reply.

All too soon the year had rolled by and Merlin’s sixteenth birthday was drawing near. By that time the whole castle and several important people in neighboring kingdoms knew who and what he was and there was a great anticipation for his debut. One morning over breakfast Cecile brought up the subject.

“Your birthday is two months away.”

“It’s come so fast,” Merlin said softly over his mug of tea.

“Do you know what happens now?” Merlin shook his head and Cecile smiled. “We finally get you fitted for a debut suit. Time to plan your auction, young _anguisette_.”


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for being patient! Here it is, after months and months of waiting for the new chapter, here it is! And it's longer than usual and full of smut! Enjoy!

The two months leading up to Merlin’s birthday were a blur. There were parties, concerts, and meetings with potential patrons almost every night. Most of the courtiers that were interested in his service were men and women of middle age and moderately attractive but very wealthy. Most shocking of all those that sought him out to show their interest were Lady Atherton, the woman who had mocked his education from the start, and Freya’s courting knight Sir Valiant.

One night as they talked low over glasses of wine Merlin asked, “does Freya know that you’re interested in bidding on me?”

Sir Valiant smiled a cocky, toothy grin and said, “what I do is no concern of hers. Nor should it be yours as long as my money is good, yes?”

Merlin nodded, face forced into an easy smile before making a polite excuse to seek out other company. He didn’t much care who bid on him but to have so little thought for Freya’s feelings or input, that he couldn’t abide. He knew Freya did not truly love Valiant but Merlin knew she would be a faithful companion to whomever she decided to marry. Sir Valiant’s blatant disregard for their sibling connection irritated him and Merlin would refuse him outright if he were to win. He would take the next highest bidder.

His thoughts on his other surprising, and frankly aggressive, bidder were fairly neutral. Lady Atherton he personally disliked. Her company was not desired in general but if she was willing to put down a large price on him then he would have no qualms about performing his duties. He knew a large virgin price would make for a enviable reputation and she might be the one to help him achieve it. Though he would certainly prefer someone else.

A month flew by and then it was just a few scant weeks before the auction. Merlin grew nervous and tried to contain his buzzing energy. When Arthur and he had more than a few minutes alone they would discuss their futures. They would talk about Arthur’s growing adeptness of state and battle and that surely Merlin would become the most renowned courtesan in the land. They did not talk about their mutual disappointment that Arthur would not be permitted to bid for him, his father would not approve.

When his suit for the auction was fitted and finished he showed it to Arthur. It had a dark purple, silk shirt that was tighter fitted than his usual fare. It hugged his chest just right, the collar lower than normal and reveal a peak of his collarbones. It showed his form beautifully. Over that came a dark brown leather jerkin with silver buttons. The flaps of the jerkin were cut low to reveal the color of the shirt beneath. It came paired with matching leather pants, cut to hug his form from buttocks to calf. Last but not least a pair of black leather boots. The whole outfit dripped with unaccustomed opulence and made him feel much older than he was. The way it showed off all his assets also tipped the scales of his confidence.

All in all he cut an impressive figure, much more so than his debut to the court just two years earlier. Arthur couldn’t help but stare. That night he pulled Merlin to him roughly and kissed the breath from him. But he refrained from going further, not trusting himself to stop himself from claiming Merlin completely in his jealousy.

All too soon it was the night before the auction. Cecile stayed out late to secure bidders and talk Merlin up. Merlin was left home alone.

It wasn’t deep into the evening when Arthur came to speak with him. Together they laid in Merlin’s bed, fully clothed to stave off mutual temptation. They just held each other and spoke softly of nonsense, sharing soft kisses. But eventually they grew quiet and they just laid sharing the space together.

At length Arthur broke the silence.

“I wish that we could share tomorrow night together,” he confessed. “I’d bid father’s entire treasury to secure my bid for you.”

Merlin smiled fondly at him, “you need never pay for me, Arthur.”

Arthur looked grim and shook his head. With a voice laced in bitterness, “wouldn’t I? Isn’t that how it’s done?”

Merlin frowned at him, not believing that Arthur could think such a thing. “I love you, Arthur.” He kissed him to emphasize it. “You will never be a patron to me. You will never have to pay for my time. Or my love.”

Arthur still looked put out and pouted. “But tomorrow others will be buying your time when I would have you here and now.”

“This is what I’ve been training for, Arthur.” He stroked Arthur’s chest trying to soothe him. “You knew this day would come. We both did.” Arthur nodded but said nothing. Merlin licked his lips and said, “I wish there was some way I could make this easier for you, my love.”

Arthur was silent for a long time and Merlin let him be. Instead of speaking with words he spoke with actions, hugging him close and pressing kisses to his skin every now and again. He gently rolled Arthur onto his back and settled himself on top of Arthur. They kissed deeply, thoroughly, tongues caressing each other’s mouths. Arthur whined into Merlin’s mouth and Merlin held his lover’s head in his hands, stroking the hair from his face. “I would give myself to you, and only you, if that were the way of the world.”

“You could be my private courtesan,” Arthur offered. “You’d never need worry about being provided for you. I’d have you by my side on the throne if the court would allow it.”

Merlin’s body froze at Arthur’s admission. His eyes watered and he bit his lip. He wanted nothing more than to be Arthur’s entirely. But Arthur had a kingdom that needed him more than Merlin ever would. A kingdom that would need a queen and an heir. Merlin could never provide that. He licked his lips and pressed a chaste kiss to Arthur’s. “I’d give anything to be able to have that. You know that.”

Arthur sighed and closed his eyes, pulling their foreheads together. “There is a ‘but’ coming,” Arthur predicted.

“But you know that I may never be at your side.” He kissed Arthur’s forehead. “Perhaps when I gain a reputation I may be a consort. Like how Nimueh is with your father.”

Arthur grimaced and sniffed. “You will never be like Nimueh.” Merlin heartily agreed but he kept silent. “Merlin,” he asked softly.

“Yes, Arthur?”

“When you are auctioned off tomorrow, when will you be sent to perform your duties?”

“As soon as the funds for my virgin price are paid. Possibly within a few hours of being auctioned off. Why do you ask?”

“May I call upon you afterwards?” He pushed Merlin up so that they could both sit up but did not push him off his lap. “Please?”

Merlin hesitated. “I don’t know what you will see when I am finished,” he said honestly. He had no idea what condition he would be in when he was finished with his first patron. Undoubtedly he would be bruised. He would be sore and tired. But to what extent he did not know. “I cannot guarantee that you will be pleased with what you see.”

Arthur took Merlin’s hands in his own and kissed each one softly before kissing Merlin’s lips. “I need to know. I need to see for myself that you are not mortally wounded.”

Merlin chuckled at the sentiment. “Arthur, I can assure you that I will not be mortally wounded. No patron will ever be so cruel.” Arthur opened his mouth to speak but Merlin put his fingers to his mouth to stop his words. “But if it means so much, then of course. How shall I contact you?”

“I would have Lancelot escort you if it would not be noticed. But since it will cause a scandal to have my personal guard accompany you then I ask you to send Freya to the royal chambers once you are finished. I will be waiting for you.”

Merlin nodded. He turned his head away, unwilling to watch Arthur’s face when he asked his next question. “Will...will you be there? At the auction?”

Arthur curled a finger beneath Merlin’s chin and made him look into his eyes. “Do you wish me to be there?”

Merlin had thought and thought and thought about it. Would it be easier knowing that Arthur was there and could not bid, knowing he would be agonizing and wishing he would be the first to claim him. Or would it be easier to not have his lover’s eyes to search for in reassurance? Finally Merlin shook his head. “I think that it will be easier for both of us if you were not there. But if you want to know the outcome of the auction you can send Lancelot to watch. He will be truthful in telling you the events.”

Arthur nodded. He looked sad, yet relieved. “I understand.”

It was late in the evening when Merlin walked Arthur to the door. They shared a final, desperate kiss and Arthur slipped out into the night. After closing the door Merlin pressed his head into the wood, wishing against everything that he and Arthur could just have each other. But he was realistic. He knew that this day had to come. This is what he had been training for his whole life. He craved things that Arthur would never be able to give. He knew that Arthur could never place him by his side as co-ruler.

After a few moments he straightened and went to bed and forced himself to sleep. He needed his strength if he were to be prepared for the day to come.

 

~*~

 

The day of the auction came early. Cecile roused him just after dawn and ushered him to the bath house. There he was treated to the same treatment as on his debut into court. Attendants scrubbed him clean and scented him with oils, this time no longer the sweet ones of youth. These oils had a spicy musk to them, a sign of manhood. After he was clean they trimmed his hair and and rubbed carmine into his lips to give them a fuller, redder look. They darkened his lashes with coal to make them more inviting. Then he donned his specially designed suit and was presented with a mirror to witness his transformation from boy to man, virgin to courtesan.

Merlin lost his breath. “I look…”

“Inviting,” Cecile supplied, a smiling tipping her lips. “You’ve grown into a very beautiful man, Merlin.” She wrapped her arms around his shoulders, rested her head on his right shoulder and made eye contact him through the mirror. “I could not ask for a better pupil.”

The sentiment warmed his heart. “Thank you, Cecile.”

She smiled wider and straightened abruptly, beckoning him to follow her to the great hall. When they reached the hall all heads turned towards them. The normally loud, bustling hallway outside the great hall fell silent. Merlin felt even more on display than he ever had in his life. The attention of the bidders’ eyes on him made him preen internally. He was nervous, of course, but he knew the image he presented. He knew he was desirable and he had many people wishing to spend the evening with him. Arthur’s disappointed face came unbidden to his mind and he forced it out, focusing instead on the crowd. He did not need to feel anything other than pleasure today. All else would wait.

The hall’s doors opened and the guests filed inside while Merlin and Cecile waited outside with the rest of the adepts who were waiting to be bid on. They were mostly young women, some scarcely his age, with mentors of their own. He had not had much contact with others of his profession outside of Cecile and a select few he had been introduced to by her. He saw girls, and a few boys, who had obviously come from poorer families. Uneducated for the most part but all very attractive. There was one, in particular who looked like Freya and Merlin thought of how easy it could have been for her to end up like them, poor and whoring out of necessity rather than proclivity. He thanked the gods for Gaius for not the first, nor the last, time in his life.

Finally a royal steward came out to speak to the group of courtesans. “Attention, whores,” he said unkindly. “Let’s try to get this auction over quickly, there is much more pressing business to get to today. I’m sure you all would like to get back to your brothels at a reasonable time tonight.” His eyes swept the crowd and landed on Merlin. “Ah, and our resident courtesan, the _anguisette_ , the King has requested that you go last. Your reputation has preceded you. Depending on your reception from this evening he may seek an audience with you after your duties are performed.”

Merlin’s heart leapt into his throat but he said nothing and nodded his head in acknowledgement.

“I will announce you in a few moments. Mentors, say your goodbyes and make your way into the hall. Ladies and,” he scoffed, “gentlemen, lineup. Other than Merlin, no order is needed. Once the doors open you will file, one by one, into the hall and the auction will begin. When it is your turn you will be motioned inside.”

Once his back was turned to the doors, awaiting his time to announce Cecile squealed with delight and hugged Merlin to her fiercely. “Oh Merlin,” she said proudly. “I knew you would go far! An audience with a king! Do you know what this means?”

“Certainly it is a great honor but what else, Cecile?” 

She smiled and shook her head. “No, no...no need to get ahead of ourselves.” She kissed his forehead and walked off towards the side door where the other mentors were filing through, “I will see you after, Merlin. I will explain then. Good luck!” With a final wave, she was through the door and Merlin was on his own.

The doors opened and the announcer stepped into the room and proclaimed, “Your Highness! Today we have the pleasure to present to you and your court fresh virgins from the sea of Camelot! All ready and willing to serve all who can pay the price for love.” Merlin couldn’t see him through the throng of people before him but he could hear everything.

Uther laughed good-naturedly and clapped his hands. “Wonderful! Send them in, what a lovely treat for my court.”

One by one, the courtesans walked into the hall. The first in the line, a girl with hair as red as Nimueh’s but with eyes that sparkled like emeralds, walked to the dias and then turned to face the crowd. The announcer followed her and opened the bidding. The redhead went for a reasonable price, ten shillings. All present knew she was common but her beauty won her more than she would normally get. From there the auction went fast. Two more girls, one boy, three girls, two boys, four girls, then him. Up until that point everyone had been sold for nothing that made anyone’s head spin. Though, one boy, a boy with shock white hair and purple eyes won a handsome sum at fifteen shillings for his unusualness.

Then at last it was Merlin’s turn. He was about to step through the doorway when the doorman’s hand stopped him. “You’re getting a special introduction,” he said quietly. “Wait until you are announced.”

The chatter in the hall began to rise but the announcer collected them quickly. “Ladies and gentlemen! You have seen some very stunning specimens, indeed, but we have one final treat for you this morning.” He went silent for a moment to ramp up their excitement. Only after all eyes were on him did he turn to the King and say, “Your Majesty, our final courtesan this morning is one whom we all have been watching bloom into an attractive youth! A young man with a reputation that proceeds him before ever taking a patron to his bed! The only _anguisette_ currently in existence!” His arm swept toward the door, “I give you, Merlin.”

Unexpectedly, applause accompanied his confident steps as he made his way to the dais. He donned a look of impartiality, as if he were bored but could be convinced to gain interest. It was a look that Cecile had made him practice over and over, one she assured would bring patrons to his feet begging an audience. It seemed to work, too. Hungry eyes followed him. He searched the crowd briefly for Arthur and Gaius and was relieved to not see them. But Cecile was there as was Lancelot, as Merlin expected. The Casseline leaned against the wall in the back of the room, hidden in the crowd.

Once the crowd settled down the announcer gestured to Merlin with more respect than he had shown for the others. “Shall we have an opening bid?”

“Fifty shillings!,” a voice answered.

Merlin’s eyes widened unbidden from their lidden position for a fraction of a second before he righted himself. The large sum was a surprise even though he knew that Cecile had been singing his praises. The announcer took the bid and asked for more. “Impressive opening,” he said with a grin. He raised his hands in the air, gesturing for more. “Can I get sixty?”

“Sixty,” Sir Valiant called.

Merlin smiled in his direction, acknowledging the familiar voice. Even though he expected Sir Valiant to bid and he did not wish to take him as a patron while he courted Freya, it was good manners to acknowledge generosity.

“We have sixty from Sir Valiant, can I get sixty-five?”

“Seventy,” a voice from the back shouted.

The bidding went on, each bidder driving the price up higher and higher. Sir Valiant dropped out of the running when the price hit one hundred shillings, Merlin already too rich for his blood. It was just then down to Lady Atherton and a man named Duke Gaspar Trevalion, a man whom Cecile invited specifically because she knew of his tastes and trusted him with her young protege.

“We are at one hundred and fifty shillings, in Lady Atherton’s favor. Going once, going twice-”

“Two hundred shillings,” Trevalion said, cooly.

Lady Atherton scowled at the man. She did not wish to bid any higher, the price of two hundred shillings already the steepest price anyone in recent history had paid for a courtesan. She sniffed and bowed her head in defeat.

“Two hundred shillings going once, going twice….sold!”

Merlin smiled at his new patron and bowed low, showing him deference for his extremely generous offer. His heart was pounding in his chest. That was more than most whores- _courtesans,_ made in a month. It made his head spin with giddy excitement. He wanted to share with Arthur his high price but knew he wasn’t there. He searched for Lancelot in the crowd, his eyes picking him out against the pillar he leaned against before. He nodded slightly at him and Lancelot returned it, leaving at once to tell his ward the news of the day.

He was ushered from the hall to a receiving room just to the side of the main hall by their auctioneer after they both bowed low to the royal dias. He told him to wait and his mentor would be along to collect him. Merlin paced in the small room, unable to be still with the excitement of what was to come running through his veins.

“Merlin! You’ve done it!” Cecile came into the room, all smiles, and hugged him close. “Congratulations, my little _anguisette_!”

“Oh, Cecile! Two hundred shillings! It’s unbelievable!”

“Gods, don’t I know it! I never started making that until I was near my retirement!” She held him at arm’s length to consider him, her eyes full of pride. “Now, first things first. We must go and tell your Gaius of your victory and then we must write the contract for your first patron.” She motioned for him to follow her out of the room and he did as bid.

“When will the assignation take place?”

“Anxious are we,” she teased. “Never you fret, it will happen soon enough. The day is young, and my old friend Gaspar just may wish for your company this very evening.”

She led him back to their apartments and told him to sit and relax. She ordered for tea and a light meal to be brought up from the kitchens so that they may break their fast before the real preparations took place. She also sent for Gaius who came as quick as he could. When he arrived he swept his fosterling into his arms, a big grin on his face.

“Merlin, my boy! Many congratulations are in order! I’ve just heard the news!”

“Thank you, Gaius. I was wondering where you were this morning, I did not see you in the crowd.”

Gaius looked a little shy at the directness of Merlin’s question. “I thought it best not to be there. I could not watch my boy get picked at like crows on a steak. But I am very glad that it turned out better than expected, of that I can assure you.” He sat on the couch Cecile had shown him too and Merlin fixed him a cup of tea.

“We should start the paperwork straight away,” Cecile suggested.

“You are quite right,” Gaius agreed, taking a sip of his tea.

Together the three of them discussed the limitations that Merlin had specified for his first assignation; there were to be no flechettes, little silver knives used for cutting the skin, used on him for his first assignation, no damage that would render him unable to move under his own volition, payment must be made before Merlin was delivered to his apartments and they made sure to include his _signale_. They wrote out the contract and had it delivered to Gaspar Trevalion so that he may read it over and negotiate as needed. They decided that Freya would be the one to see to any wounds that needed tending to afterwards and that Cecile would escort him to and from the assignation.

Within the hour Trevalion had signed the contract and sent along a purse with the full amount of Merlin’s virgin price. Merlin’s mouth fell open at the sight of the purse, heavy with silver. He had never seen such a sum in his whole life. “What on earth do we do with it all?”

“Well, we must pay the small sum of your auctioning fee, just two shillings. No hardship there, obviously,” she giggled, jingling the purse. “Then we must make an offering to the gods in thanks. Good fortune such as this is no small thing, Merlin.” She sat down at her desk and began to write a short letter. “And then the rest I suppose you could do as you see fit to do with. We will have to design your marque of course, so we could meet with a marquist as soon as a suitable one can be found. That will cost a pretty penny for the first stage of it, I’m sure.”

Merlin nodded, sinking into his cushion on the couch, taking it all in. “When is he expecting me?”

“He is expecting you at eight in the evening tonight.” She folded and sealed the letter she was writing. “I am sending your acceptance of his offer. If you sign that contract, we’ll copy it and send one for him and then we will prepare you for your first assignation.” He jerked her head towards the contract on her desk. “All you need do is sign.”

Merlin stood on nervous legs and walked over to the desk. He sank down onto the stool and read over the contract once more before he scrawled his name across the bottom. He looked up at his foster-father and his mentor and said, “it is done.”

“Wonderful,” Cecile beamed. She called for a porter to run her letter to Trevalion and deliver the news to him. She sat down and began her copying of the contract. She said that they would need a proper, official seal from the court due to the high price paid for Merlin’s virginity. An hour later a man from the treasury came with his seal to approve the transaction between parties and took Trevalion’s copy so he might deliver it to him.

“All that’s left to do is wait out the final hours before you are delivered into your new life, Merlin,” Cecile said excitedly. She dropped onto the couch next to him and made last minute suggestions and quizzed him on things he had known for years to be sure he was ready.

The time dragged on and on and the sun still was stubbornly rather high in the air when Merlin excused himself to his room. He wanted to write a letter to Arthur so that Freya may deliver it as soon as he was done with his assignation. Seated at his desk and quill in hand he began to write.

 

_Dearest Arthur,_

 

_By the time you receive this I will have finished my first assignation_

_and will be awaiting your presence in my chambers. I must warn you,_

_once again, that you may not appreciate the condition that I may be_

_in when you come to me. Follow Freya’s lead, she’ll know how to get_

_you to me without being discovered. Know that I love you and I still_

_wish, even now, that you were my first. But I will settle for the love_

_for me that is in your heart that will hopefully remain after tonight._

_Try not to worry for me or think too hard upon tonight. It will all_

_be over soon enough._

 

_Always yours,_

_Merlin_

 

He folded the letter and sealed it, thinking of how placating his letter sounded. It sounded as if Merlin pitied him and he knew his Prince would not appreciate the notion. But he could not write anything more enthusiastic, knowing that Arthur would not find joy in his excitement. Nor could he write to tell the Prince of what was to come because he surely did not know, himself. But all the same he wished for Arthur to come to him and he did not think he would have the strength to write after his assignation. He wanted to be sure that Arthur, no matter Merlin’s condition, would make it to him without discovery. He was more thankful for Freya and her discretion than ever before, more than she would ever know.

He found Freya across the hall from Cecile’s and handed her the letter for safe keeping. “When I get back, after you see to me and make sure I am okay, then I want you to take this to Arthur. He wishes to see me afterwards.”

“Are you sure that’s wise,” she asked, concerned.

Merlin only shrugged. “I warned him that he may not like to see me afterwards but he insisted. How could I refuse him?”

Freya nodded knowingly and slipped the letter into her apron. “You can count on me, Merlin.”

Merlin thanked her and then went to his rooms to ready himself. The time drew near for his assignation.

He removed the jerkin and freshened himself by splashing water on his face. He dabbed more of the musky oil on his skin from earlier to refresh his scent. He touched up the small amounts of makeup on his face and mussed his hair so it had a gently tousled look. He looked at himself in the small mirror Cecile had provided for him. Staring into the mirror he thought quietly to himself things he would never say aloud.

_Soon I will no longer be a virgin courtesan. I will be an adept. An experienced vessel of passion and desire. Would Arthur still want me, knowing I was used goods? Will he and I ever get to share the same acts as me and my patrons will? Will they be kind? Will Gaspar be kind? Cecile warned me ahead of time of his roughness. Will it be too much? Will it feel good?_

He remembered the sting of the whip and shuddered.

A knock on his door pulled him from his mind. “Time to go, Merlin,” Cecile called to him.

“Yes, Cecile. I’ll be right there.”

One last look in the mirror told him that he was indeed ready, nervous as he was. He was ready and confident and nothing would spoil the evening of his triumph. He strode out the door, closing it with a small click and went to meet his mentor.

He was ready.

 

~*~

 

Cecile and Merlin arrived at Trevalion’s apartments promptly at eight and knocked on his door. It was answered by a servant dressed in House Trevalion’s colors, dark blue with silver, and they were welcomed inside. They were shown to a sitting room and told to wait. Moments later Gaspar Trevalion showed himself and bowed low to his two guests.

“Lady Cecile Perrin. It has been an age, has it not?”

“Duke Gaspar Trevalion, indeed it has.” She held out her hand for him to kiss and he did so obligingly. “I cannot tell you how pleased I am that you won the auction.”

“Nor I, I can assure you.” He turned his eye on Merlin and smiled at him, purpose and desire evident in his gaze. “And Merlin, I presume. The soon to be famous _anguisette_. It’s an honor.”

Merlin bowed to him again, blush creeping into his cheeks. “The honor is mine, Duke Trevalion. I am very pleased with your generous offer for my virgin price. It is quite a shock to be desired so fiercely,” he said truthfully.

Trevalion laughed, “modest and bold at the same time! However do you manage such a contradictory set of traits and maintain your appeal?”

Merlin smiled shyly, “I’m sure you could tell me what exactly my appeal is, Duke.”

Trevalion smiled deeply. “I’m sure I can.” He shifted his gaze once more to Cecile. “Cecile, my home is open to you while you wait for your young protege. You may ask for refreshments of any kind and entertainment in the form of my books or I have a very capable harpist in my employ if you prefer.”

“Thank you, Gaspar. Some cordial and the harpist sounds lovely.”

“As you wish, my Lady.” He relayed the request to his servant and held out his hand to Merlin. “I believe that I have a prize to be collected. Shall we?”

Merlin nodded and took the outstretched hand. “As you wish, my Lord Duke.”

The continual mention of his nobility and his status had desire pooling his eyes and his posture stiffened. Merlin knew he was growing aroused with the meek yet direct attention from Merlin. Reading him and knowing what would please him was coming more and more easily to Merlin and he was sure he had not misjudged the Duke’s ego.

He was led to a room at the very back of Trevalion’s apartments. Inside a fire was already roaring and it was warm. The soft, shifting light of the fire illuminated for Merlin what exactly he was to expect from Gaspar Trevalion.

His eyes drifted towards the rack that looked so much like the one he had been tied to as a child the day he was whipped. Except this one was taller, he was meant to stand while it was being used. He saw upon a nearby table a cane, a belt and a riding crop, all ready to be used on his willing body. And lastly, he saw a big, wooden chair across from the rack. It was big enough for two to sit in it uncomfortably but was wide enough that a single man could sprawl quite comfortably.

Yes. Playing to Trevalion’s ego was most certainly the way to go. Merlin felt pride swell in his chest at the correct assumption.

And then pain bloomed on the right side of his face as he was slapped and thrown to the ground.

He cried out at the sudden sharpness of the pain but it peaked his interest in a way nothing else had before. He went from being soft and flaccid to half hard in the span of a second. The sensation made him dizzy.

“You will kneel when you step foot in this room unless I say otherwise, is that understood?”

Merlin nodded and gracefully righted himself to a kneeling position. He faced the flames and licked his bleeding lip, the coppery flavor spreading on his tongue. Trevalion stood in front of him, so tall that Merlin had to crane his neck to look at him. “I want to hurt you but not harm you, do you understand the difference. Nod if you do.”

Merlin understood. He wanted to cause him pain but he did not want to inflict lasting damage.

Merlin nodded.

“Good boy,” Trevalion praised. He cupped Merlin's cheek with the hand he had used to slap him. “Then we will get along famously.” He reached back and slapped him once more, making him gasp in pain. “Look at that pretty face, flushed with the mark of my hand. Do you like that?”

Merlin had to nod. The pain was making him hard in his trousers and the anticipation of more was intoxicating.

“Good.” Merlin watched as Trevalion rubbed his palm against his straining erection through his trousers. He groaned low in his throat and Merlin longed to do more. Sensing his eagerness he asked Merlin, “do you want more?” Merlin gave his silent, enthusiastic consent and Trevalion undid the fastenings on his trousers. His erection was impressive. It was long and thick at the bottom but thinned out near the head and the tip was shinning with precome. He grinned darkly at Merlin and asked, “can I assume you know what to do with this, little whore?”

Merlin nodded and surged forward to eagerly swallow him down. His previous practice of fellatio had come from Cecile in the form of shoving various sized summer squash down his throat until his gag reflex was all but non-existent. The practice paid off because Merlin managed to take Trevalion down to the root in one swift bob of his head. The saltiness of Trevalion’s member washed over his tongue and made him groan. He never expected it to taste like that. So musky and alive.

He lapped at Trevalion’s cock as he slid it in and out of his mouth, letting his hand travel up it’s length every time Merlin’s mouth slid off of it, only to slide it back down when Merlin’s mouth engulfed it once more. He built up a rhythm that soon had the Duke panting and groaning above him.

“Good gods, are you sure you’re a virgin? Are you sure I didn’t just pay for an innocent looking slut?” He gripped Merlin’s hair tightly in his fist and pulled Merlin off his throbbing cock. “Answer me, whore.”

“I tell you truthfully I have never performed fellation of any sort with anyone before, my Lord Duke.” He licked his lips and drooped his eyelids to a half-lidded gaze, trying to look as sincere and out of his mind with need as his was.

“Truthfully? And what did you practice on, pray tell?”

“Cucumbers,” he answered honestly.

Trevalion chuckled deeply, “lucky squash then.” He tugged upward, urging Merlin to his feet. “Up, boy.”

He lead Merlin to the rack and told him to stand. He nudged his feet apart and said plainly, “first I am going to undress you. Then I am going to strap your arms to this bar here.” He tapped the bar above Merlin and the _anguisette’s_ eyes followed, eyeing the cuffs that dangled from leather straps. “Then I am going to redden that pretty little back for you until I deem you pretty enough to fuck.” He roughly undid the fastenings on Merlin’s trousers and shoved them down Merlin’s legs, a stray fingernail scratching his tender skin. Merlin hissed at the pain and Trevalion chuckled once more. “Then I’m going to fuck you until you can’t stand on your own.” He pointed to the chair behind him and ended, “then I’m going to fuck you in that chair until I come in your virgin arse.”

Merlin could only nod, wanting everything that was about to be done to him.

“Arms up, _anguisette_. Keep them there.” Merlin complied and his beautiful silken shirt was ripped up and over his head and tossed aside. His arms remained above his head and then he felt as the leather cuffs slipped over his wrists and were tightened. “Too tight?”

“No, my Lord Duke.”

The mention of his title made him growl deep in his throat. He leaned forward and kissed Merlin’s bruised lip, making him keen with pain and pleasure. He pulled back swiftly, leaving Merlin swaying. His breath was coming fast and his anticipation was almost too much to bear. Trevalion moved to stand behind him where his striking implements laid in wait. He heard him pick up something and it made Merlin tremble.

“Before we begin in earnest, Merlin. Tell me your _signale._ ”

“Helios,” Merlin panted.

“You be sure to use it if need be,” Trevalion insisted. “I’ll not be responsible for breaking you.”

“Of course, my Lord Duke.”

And then the stinging bite of the belt across his back forced the air from his lungs. He cried out at the mix of pain and pleasure, only heightened by his foreplay moments before. It was intense and it had Merlin shaking with need. And then another resounding slap blossomed across his back. Merlin reached up to grip the bar to which he was attached and hung on for dear life. Five more times, across the expanse of his back, his buttocks and the backs of his thighs, the belt fell and it had Merlin vibrating with painful need. His cock was hard and throbbing, pulsing as sticky precome rolled over the head.

A soft hand across his flaming back made him gasp. “So warm and pretty already. You’re a lovely shade of pink, you know. Blooming like a little flower.” He whispered against his ear, nipping Merlin’s lobe, “ready for more?”

“Yes, m-my L-lord Duke,” Merlin stuttered out.

“Already reducing you to faulty speech,” he said with a smirk. “I would be impressed but then again,” he paused, picking up the next implement, “I am your first.”

And then the hardness of the cane struck him across the buttocks and Merlin couldn’t stop the cry that was torn from him. His already sensitive skin screamed at him but his neglected erection begged for more. More sensation and soon, preferably directed to his straining cock. The cane came down across the backs of his thighs and his buttocks again and again, so many times that Merlin soon lost count. His nerves were on fire and he was nearing a point of exhaustion, his knees threatened to give out. But he was resolute, determined to stand until Trevalion deemed it necessary for him to sit.

“Very good, Merlin,” he purred into the boy’s ear. “You’re very nearly pretty enough for me to fuck. Your beautiful arse is such a lovely shade of red now. It will be purple tomorrow.” He kissed along Merlin’s neck, trailing down his spine to the swell of his arse. “One more instrument to use, are you ready?”

“Yes, my Lord Duke.”

“Good.” He picked up the crop and said, “I’m going to count to hit you ten more times and you’re going to count each one for me.” He trailed the tip of the crop down Merlin’s spine, making him shiver. “If you lose count then you will get two more for each lost count. Understood?”

“Yes, my Lord Duke. I understand.”

“Very good. Begin,” he said, letting loose his arm and hitting Melin squarely across his back.

“O-one!” _Slap_. “Two!” _Slap, slap._ “Three, four!” _Slap, slap, slap._ “Five, six, s-s-seven,” Merlin panted. _Slap._ “Eight!” _Slap._ “Nine!” And then there was a pause for what seemed like eternity but was probably no more than a minute and then the final blow came. _Slap._ “Ten!”

“Good, Merlin. I’m pleased to know you can count.” He heard the crop get dropped to the table it came from and he felt the heat of Trevalion’s body behind him. “Can you tell me what is going to happen next?”

Merlin swallowed dryly, his tongue heavy in his mouth. “If you think I am pretty enough, you are going to fuck me til I can no longer stand.”

“Excellent memory,” Trevalion cooed. He yanked Merlin’s head to the side and sucked a deep bruise into Merlin’s neck. “Do you think you’re pretty enough yet?”

Merlin quivered in the Duke’s hands and he swallowed thickly. “I cannot say, my Lord Duke.”

He felt Trevalion grin against his neck. He knew that the Duke would not appreciate grasping pleas for pleasure for Merlin’s own sake, that if he were too quick to say he was ready to be fucked that the Duke would take his time toying with him further. Merlin was here for Gaspar’s pleasure, not his own, and the Duke wanted to emphasize that fact. If Merlin achieved orgasm it would be because Trevalion deemed it so and that made Merlin all the more needful for release.

“You are a smart whore, I’ll give you that.” He palmed Merlin’s sore arse, squeezing it. “And a lot more hardy than other whores. Most would be crying and begging for mercy right now. But not you.”

“You knew I wouldn’t, though. That is why you paid for me.” He gulped in air, trying not to focus on the pain in his arse nor the insistent throbbing of his cock. “You don’t want tears or begging. You want obliging acceptance and enthusiasm.”

“Truer words were never spoken, Merlin.” He swatted his arse with an open palm, making Merlin cry out once more. “Truer words.”

He stepped away and Merlin could hear him rummaging for something and when he returned his finger slicked with oil slipped between the crack of Merlin’s arse. Merlin gasped, his cheeks clenching around Trevalion’s finger in need. “I think you’re pretty enough to fuck.”

And with no other preamble Trevalion slid his finger inside Merlin.

“ _Aah-_ ” Merlin cried out, his muscles clamping down onto the unfamiliar intrusion of Trevalion’s finger. His breaths came in heavy pants and he could feel himself sweating, the drops of his sweat rolling down his shoulder blades and traveling down his spine. His knees shook harder with his need and the new sensation of being invaded.

“No doubt about it,” Trevalion said huskily against the back of Merlin’s neck, “you really are a virgin.”

Being a cheeky whore, Merlin said, “I told you so, my Lord Duke. Are you pleased to believe me now?”

He was rewarded with the painful stretch of a second finger inside him before he was properly stretched. He bit back a scream, not wanting to give him the satisfaction. “You’re a little mouthy, _anguisette_. But seeing that this is our first time I’ll let that slide.”

“Thank you, my Lord Duke.”

The cool sensation of more oil being dribbled into Merlin’s crack made him jump and drove him further onto Trevalion’s hand. He groaned louder, biting his lip to the point of bleeding. Then Trevalion began to fuck him with his fingers in earnest, driving into him harder and quickly. “Come on, boy,” he coaxed. “Let me hear you.”

Wanting to comply and let go he opened his mouth and let his moans and desperate cries fall freely from his mouth. He began rocking in time onto Trevalion’s hand, feeling full and absolutely fantastic. His cock throbbed without being touched but he couldn’t be bothered to care given the waves of pleasure washing over him. And then Trevalion hooked his finger inside him and pressed onto the bundle of nerves that Cecile had warned him existed and he saw stars behind his eyes. He couldn’t help it, he screamed out in pleasure.

“I think you’re ready for me.”

“Yes, please, my Lord Duke!”

“Oh, how nicely you ask.” Merlin could hear the sound of Trevalion slicking up his hard cock in preparation for fucking him. “How could I say no?”

Trevalion curled one hand around Merlin’s hip and used the other to guide himself to Merlin’s wet, stretched hole. And then in one thrust he buried himself to the hilt.

Another scream was ripped from Merlin. He felt himself go weak in the knees, his wrists screaming at having to support his full weight. Trevalion laughed behind him, his cock pulsing inside him. “Weak already? You can do better than that, I think. Stand,” he commanded.

Merlin forced himself to rise again, planting his quivering feet as solidly as he could and gripping the bar in his sweaty hands as hard as he could. When Merlin had righted himself Trevalion pulled back and slammed into him again, making them both groan in pleasure. He thrust into him over and over harshly, his poor, bruised rump screaming even while his body was aflame with pleasure. He would be extremely sore in the morning but _oh_ how it was worth it.

Then Trevalion changed his angle slightly and the head of his cock brushed against Merlin’s prostate on every thrust and it made Merlin yelp each and every time the bundle of nerves was touched. With the constant onslaught of ecstasy Merlin couldn’t hold himself up any longer. He melted, knees unable to support him, and he sagged against his patron.

“Can’t stand, can we?” Merlin shook his head and Trevalion kissed the boy’s neck. “Then I think it’s time to switch positions, don’t you?” Merlin nodded his head as emphatically as he could manage and Trevalion pulled out making Merlin wince with the loss.

He had never felt so open and raw, and he shivered with the sensation.

Trevalion’s fingers worked at the fastenings on the cuffs and Merlin crumpled to the ground once he was free of them. He cried out in pain as his abused arse his the ground and his legs puddled gracelessly around him. Then he felt Trevalion’s strong arms around him, dragging him upwards. “Come, _anguisette_. Time to give you something to sit on.” He helped Merlin walk to the chair and positioned him so Merlin was sitting astride him, facing him. Merlin gripped the shirt Trevalion still wore, eyes wide at seeing the crazed desire full blown in the Duke. Trevalion stroked his member a few times before he held it steady and erect. “Sit, Merlin,” he said with a grin.

Merlin lifted himself up so he was hovering over Trevalion’s cock slowly, he lowered his purpling arse down so he could take Trevalion’s length again. Once fully seated Trevalion asked him, “comfortable? Is this seat acceptable?”

“Very much so, my Lord Duke.”

“Good.” And then Trevalion gripped Merlin’s hips hard enough to leave finger-sized marks on his already abused skin and thrust up into him. Merlin could do more than grip Trevalion’s shoulders as he was pushed into over and over again. His orgasm was perilously close and he wanted to touch himself to push himself over the edge into climax.

“P-please...m-my Lord! I need-”

“You need to come,” he growled, finished Merlin’s request. “You are forbidden to come until I tell you to.” He thrust into him harshly and Merlin cried out, dropping his head onto Trevalion’s shoulder.

Merlin redoubled his efforts, trying to make the Duke come so that he might finally be allowed his own orgasm. He ground down into the Duke make the man groan and growl into his ear. Trevalion sucked yet more bruises into Merlin’s neck and made a trail of them down his neck, over his collarbone and down onto his nipples. Merlin swivelled his hips faster as the older man sucked his nipples into his mouth, biting and licking them until Merlin was nearly crying with want of release.

After what seemed like hours of torturous pleasure Trevalion groaned, “I’m going to fill you up, _anguisette_. I’m going to fill you with my seed.”

“Oh, please! Yes, my Lord Duke!”

Three amorous thrusts later and the Duke was holding Merin still while his cock pulsed inside him, filling him with his come. Merlin whined his need and finally, _finally,_ the Duke wrapped his hand around Merlin’s cock, stroking him to the last few needed beats to have his orgasm right at the edge. “You may come, _anguisette_ ,” Trevalion whispered in his ear, his tongue tracing the inside of the shell of his ear.

And then everything went white with the power of his orgasm. His voice strained with the intensity of his scream, the powerful waves of orgasm swallowing him and seizing him until he felt wrung out. He melted into Trevalion, panting hard in the aftermath of his climax, shivering in his arms.

He felt a gentle press of lips against his scalp. “You did well,” he praised him.

Despite the intense aftershocks of his orgasm and the pain that gripped his body, Merlin smiled at a job well done.


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! So. Funny story. I know it's been like hella months since I've added to this. I promise I did not fully abandon this work, it's always been in the back of my mind. But life and other stories kind of got in the way. To soothe the ache of separation, here's an extra long chapter for you. And there's a cover for this in the works, as well. 
> 
> We're back on track, thanks for your patience in waiting. Enjoy!

When Merlin returned to himself, flooded with the reality of pained exhaustion, he was being gently handled by his patron. Duke Trevalion had cajoled his body to being cradled in his arms as he lifted him and carried him from the room. 

 

“Where are you taking me,” Merlin asked softly, hands clutching the fabric of Trevalion’s shirt. 

 

“To a room where you can rest a while and dress before you return to your apartments. I’ll have Cecile sent there as well.” 

 

The rest of the short walk to the aforementioned guest room was silent. In the room was a wash basin and a small bed. A soft robe of dark red silk was laid across it and a fire had been built up to warm it, the color undoubtedly chosen to help mask any blood Merlin’s skin wept into the fibers. Trevalion laid Merlin gently on the bed but even with his care Merlin still winced. The moment his skin touched the duvet he hissed through his teeth and clenched his fists.

 

“I’ll not say sorry for causing you this pain, Merlin,” the Duke said evenly. Then, as a worried afterthought he added, “unless you are unhappy with our time together.” 

 

Merlin grasped the Duke’s hand and smiled at him sincerely. “My Lord Duke, I can assure you that I am very satisfied with how our evening was spent. Do not worry over your handiwork.” Merlin chuckled, shrugging into the robe left for him even as his skin screamed in protest. “I shall soon heal and all will be well.”

 

Trevalion levelled him with a curious eye. “Do  _ anguisettes _ heal unusually quickly?”

 

Merlin smirked at him, “we tend to, yes. Rather, since I know no other  _ anguisettes _ , I know I do.”

 

Trevalion considered Merlin’s words, looking him over with respect and admiration. Merlin could feel his cheeks grow warm with the attention. Despite the activities they shared not even ten minutes prior, Trevalion’s gaze seemed even more intimate. He looked at him as one would a hard-won treasure, one Merlin was sure he would want to revisit. But there was also a measure of regard that one gives an equal, an acceptance that Merlin found rewarding. After a long look, Trevalion told Merlin that he would have Cecile come to collect him and his clothes would be brought shortly. He asked if he required anything and Merlin assured him he would be just fine until he reached his own home. 

 

Just as Trevalion was about to turn to leave Merlin reached out and took his hand. He looked at it for a second before putting it to his lips and kissing it softly. “Thank you for a unforgettable  _ assignation _ , My Lord Duke.”

 

Trevalion knelt before Merlin and captured his lips in a firm but chaste kiss. “The pleasure was all mine,” he said truth ringing in his voice. And then without another word he rose and took his leave. 

 

Short minutes later, Cecile entered the room accompanied by a servant who held Merlin’s clothes in his hands. She took the clothes at once and told them to wait outside until Merlin was ready to leave. Once they were alone she sat next to him on the bed, careful not to jostle him and asked delicately, “how did it go? Was it everything you had wished for?”

 

Merlin looked at her and said, “it was better than I had ever expected.”

 

She took in his tired, pained demeanor and admitted. “Truth be told I did not know what to expect from this.” She gently brushed his damp hair from his face and assessed him. “He was good to you? He did not mistreat you?” Her fingers delicately peeled back his robe a measure to  peek beneath it. Wincing in sympathy, she added, “in an unforgivable way, at least?”

 

Merlin shook his head. “No, he was a perfect gentleman.” They both laughed at that but the laughter made Merlin suck in a pained breath, the pain reminding him, not for the first time, of the day of his whipping. He thought of how he had laughed with Arthur in his tiny bed all those years ago, how his body hurt then, too. His smile faltered ever so slightly and he suddenly felt the full weight of his exhaustion. 

 

Then he told Cecile, “I would very much like to go home and perhaps have a bath before bed.”

 

Cecile nodded and rose, “of course. Will you need help dressing?”

 

“More like I’ll need help undressing once we get back. I think I can manage for now though.” He took his trousers and braced himself for the form hugging tightness of his trousers as he gently tugged them on. Eyes swimming with unshed tears, he took a deep breath once they were fastened. Next he gingerly dropped his shirt over his head and the coolness of the silk actually made him sigh, he tried not to question if he was bleeding or not and how it would stain the delicate fabric. The coolness wouldn’t last long but it was a nice reprieve from the fire that raged on his back. 

 

He frowned at his boots and asked, “would it be terrible manners if I were to walk barefoot back home? I don’t think I can stomach the idea of putting those back on.”

 

Cecile smiled indulgently. “I think for your first  _ assignation _ it might be forgivable. We might want to plan better next time, hmm?” Merlin smiled back and agreed. 

 

Shakily, gingerly, he stepped towards the door as Cecile held it open. She handed the boots to the waiting servant and requested that they follow them back to their quarters. Together the small troupe walked back to Cecile’s apartments. Once inside Freya and Gaius were there ready to attend to Merlin’s needs. 

 

“Glad to see you can still stand,” Freya said with a laugh that didn’t quite meet her eyes. “How bad is it?”

 

Merlin shrugged and then regretted it, gritting his teeth. “Not sure since I can’t actually see any of it.” 

 

“To your room with you,” Cecile ordered. “I’ll have a tub and water readied and waiting for you after your physicians look at you.” She made shooing motions and the three of them walked off towards Merlin’s room. 

 

Weak with pain and exhaustion Merlin dropped face first onto the bed, groaning. Gaius and Freya walked in after him and started their work. Together they peeled Merlin’s clothes off him and Merlin startled at Freya’s gasp.

 

“Oh my,” Gaius said softly. The old physician had obviously expected for there to be bruising and welts but he found the sheer amount of damage impressive. Any other person would be weeping and unable to move. He didn’t know how Merlin had managed to walk back to their quarters much less put clothes on besides. 

 

“How bad is it,” Merlin asked. The adrenaline from the evening’s activities was wearing off fast and the wall of pain was inching closer and getting more pronounced. 

 

“Some of the welts on your buttocks have split open and you’re bleeding. Some of the bruises there as well are starting to turn a rather vivid shade of  dark purple, almost black, and your back looks like a ripe tomato. Warm water will sooth your back muscles but will make the welts on your buttocks and thighs rush more blood to the skin which will make them bleed more.” He rubbed his chin, contemplating the best course of action and finally settled on his course of treatment. “Quick bath, to get you clean. Then some ointments to stave off any infections on your broken skin and to cool the pain of your wounds. Then a draught so you’ll sleep peacefully.”

 

Sleepy, even through the pain, Merlin responded, “sounds great Gaius.”

 

Before long a tub had been delivered along with several, sleepy servants carrying buckets of hot water to fill it. Tender and careful, Merlin dropped himself into the tub, hissing at first with the heat and then sighing as the warm water worked its magic on his body. He leaned his head back, the warm metal tub propping his neck up while he soaked. 

 

While he soaked, Gaius and Freya set themselves to work laying  everything they needed for doctoring. They spread an extra clean sheet over his duvet for Merlin to stretch out on. Gaius, ever prepared, pulled jars and bottles of ointments from his carry-all and lined them up on Merlin’s nightstand. Lastly, they both washed their hands vigorously in a basin of clean water in preparation for their ministrations.

 

Merlin closed his eyes, listening to them work with half an ear. He focused only on willing his muscles to relax and his skin to stop throbbing. Though, if he was honest, once he was settled in the water the throbbing became more of a lasting echo of pleasure than a real hindrance. The water began to cool before he was ready to leave so in an effort to prolong his bath he flexed his fingers and whispered a spell under his breath to heat the water a touch more.

 

“I heard that, Merlin,” Gaius chided.

 

Eyes still closed, Merlin replied, “can’t prove a thing. Don’t know what you’re talking about.”

 

Gaius rolled his eyes and muttered, “very funny.” Then more firmly he asked, “are you about done languishing? I’m worried about those welts on your thighs.”

 

“I guess,” Merlin sighed. Hands clenching the sides of the tub and gritting his teeth, he dragged himself up from the tub and stood on unsteady feet. The water had helped his muscles relax but it didn’t stop his cuts from stinging as the water ran in rivulets down his bottom and thighs. He glanced down and found the water had turned the slightest shade of pink and knew that Gaius was right. He had begun to bleed more and probably had overdone it in the tub. 

 

With Gaius gripping one arm and Freya the other, Merlin stepped out of the tub and he made his way over to the bed and he gratefully stretched out on it. The two physicians patted him dry with towels and then began to rub their ointments into Merlin’s skin. The slick, heavy wet of the ointment gave Merlin chills and he soon felt himself shivering in the cool evening air. He twitched under their fingers, making small noises of discomfort until they finally deemed themselves done. With a final piece of linen secured in place over his bleeding welts, Gaius asked him how he felt. 

 

“Drained,” Merlin answered honestly. “And cold,” he added as an afterthought.

 

“I’m afraid a blanket might be too much weight for the damage on your back but a sheet could help some. I’ll be just a minute.” 

 

He left the room in search of an extra sheet and Freya perched on the edge of the bed. “I can’t believe you’re not screaming in pain. The beating you took,” she sighed and closed her eyes, shaking her head. “This would have broken lesser men.”

 

“Well, thank the gods I am not,” Merlin said with levity. 

 

After a few moments of silence Freya asked, “do you still want him to come?”

Merlin thought about it. He wanted nothing more to fall asleep and begin his recuperating. He knew Arthur would not appreciate the sight Merlin made. He knew that his Prince would be upset, frightened, possibly disgusted. He shuddered to think of Arthur being disgusted with him. But he had promised him that he would let him see, no matter the consequences. He nodded jerkily against the mattress and said, “wait until they’ve all gone to bed. He would not want to be caught here and asked questions.”

 

Freya nodded, “of course.” 

 

Before long, Gaius returned with the sheet and draped it lovingly along Merlin’s back. Cecile joined them not long after and Gaius schooled her on the ointments he left behind in case Merlin should need anything during the night. Lastly he handed her the sleeping draught so Merlin could take it before nodding off for good. She assured him that Merlin would be in the best of care with her and ushered his family out, promising that they would be allowed back in the morning to check on his recovery. After seeing them out Cecile returned to Merlin’s room to find him half asleep. 

 

She knelt beside his bed, resting her arms and head on the mattress so they were eye level to each other. “You have done so well,” she praised. “News of your first  _ assignation _ will be all anyone will talk about tomorrow.” With joy and a smile in her voice she added, “you’ll soon be very popular.” 

 

Merlin smiled at that, “what more could a courtesan ask for?”

 

“Well,” she said softly, rising to her feet, “I won’t keep you. Rest up, young  _ anguisette _ . Tomorrow is a new world for you and you have a long road ahead of you.” She handed him the sleeping draught and bid him drink it soon. “Tomorrow, we’ll discuss what comes next.”

 

“Thank you, Cecile,” Merlin said sleepily. 

 

Without another word Cecile left him. Merlin shoved the draught under his pillow, knowing he would take it after Arthur’s visit. Not long later, he swiftly fell asleep. 

 

When he next woke it was to a weight dipping into the mattress next to him and a soft voice calling his name. His eyes flickered open and the sight of a worried Prince filled his vision. Merlin smiled up at him and said softly, “hello, Arthur.”

 

Arthur was silent at first, looking down on him with trepidation in his eyes. Then he swallowed thickly and asked, “how do you feel?”

 

“Exhausted. Sore.” He hesitated before adding, “elated.”

 

“Elated?”

 

Merlin nodded slowly, cheek rubbing against the mattress. “It’s as if a piece to the puzzle of myself has slotted into place. I feel…,” he sighed, for once at a loss for words. “Indescribable.”

 

Arthur nodded, still unsure. Then he asked the question Merlin knew he longed to ask. “Could...could I see?”

 

Merlin blinked at him and closed his eyes, not wanting to see disappointment, fear, nor disgust in Arthur. “I’m told it’s not pretty,” he warned.

 

“I don’t care,” Arthur insisted.

 

“You might. If you look you must not be upset,” Merlin pleaded. “I will soon be healed as if nothing has ever happened.” He licked his dry lips. “Promise me you will not be angry. I know I cannot expect you to not be unaffected but, please, do not be angry.”

 

Arthur slouched on the bed, bending his body so that he could press their lips together in a tender kiss. “I promise.”

 

Merlin closed his eyes and breathed in a steadying breath and gave him permission to lift the sheet. When Arthur’s fingers found the hem of the sheet and pulled it back Merlin hissed in renewed, pained sensation. The ointment had made the sheet stick to his abused skin and it tugged at him as Arthur removed it, revealing the damage. 

 

Arthur became a symphony of sounds. A gasp, a bitten off whimper of sympathy, a sharp intake of breath. Merlin kept his eyes closed, not wanting to see the emotions play out on Arthur’s face. He felt more exposed then than he ever had when they had lain together before. More exposed than he had been with the Duke. He laid absolutely bare for Arthur to see and knew the Prince was upset. A movement against him told Merlin that Arthur was hovering above him, examining all his wounds. Gentle fingertips swept across Merlin’s sore skin and Merlin bit back a whimper of pained oversensitivity. 

 

After what seemed like hours, Arthur gently put the sheet back. He rested his back against the headboard and stared off into space. Merlin knew he needed time to process all he had seen and so remained silent. The quiet stretched on so long that Merlin was almost asleep again when Arthur spoke again. 

 

“It looks unendurable.”

 

Merlin smile softly. “Looks worse than it feels.”

 

“I find that hard to believe. I once fell off my horse and then got kicked by it. Had a bruise the size of a dinner plate and purple for a week. Thought I would die, it hurt so bad.”

“I can promise you I’ll live.”

 

“How does this,” Arthur gestured to the expanse of Merlin’s body, “feel good.”

 

“I’ll admit, the aftermath isn’t a picnic.” He moved his hand so that it was caressing Arthur’s thigh comfortingly. “But, in the moment. It’s thrilling.” When Arthur fell silent once more Merlin said pragmatically, “I will never expect you to understand. I’m only just beginning to, myself. Please know that I will never put myself in any real danger. I would never risk myself needlessly,” he assured, trying to soothe Arthur.

 

Arthur shifted so that he was lying beside him, staring into Merlin’s eyes. Tears threatened to spill over and Merlin couldn’t help himself. It seemed it was in his nature to shoulder the pain of others. He reached out and cupped Arthur’s cheek and swiped his thumb under Arthur’s eye to wipe away the moisture there. “Please don’t fret.”

 

“Look at us,” Arthur chuckled mirthlessly. “Here you are, black and blue, and you’re comforting  _ me. _ ” He turned his head to press a kiss to Merlin’s palm. “Tell me, what can I do for you?”

 

A wave of relief rolled over Merlin, the knowledge that he had not lost Arthur forever the best balm he could ask for. That being said, he felt his skin begin to itch and burn as the ointment had dried and he was parched and in need of a drink. 

 

“A glass of water if you don’t mind. And, if it’s not too much trouble,” he nodded to the bottles on the table, “would you reapply the ointments Gaius gave me? They help.”

 

Arthur kissed him tenderly and whispered “of course” against his lips before moving to do as asked. Once again, with the greatest of care, Arthur lifted the sheet and Merlin schooled him on which ointment to use where. He practically purred under Arthur’s fingers, not fully believing that a crowned Prince was administering aftercare to one such as him. When he was suitably medicated, Arthur replaced the sheet and Merlin sighed as the cool ointment began to do its job. Then a hand wedged its way between his head and the mattress and he was gently being raised so that he could drink. A few swallows of water and he pulled back, licking his lips of the excess.

“Thank you, Arthur.” His hand found beneath his pillow the draught that Gaius made for him. He showed it to Arthur and he explained its use. “Once I take this I’ll fall asleep very quickly. Would you stay until I do?”

 

“Of course.” Arthur laid once again next to him and confessed, “all I want to do is pull you close to me so that no one will ever hurt you again.”

 

“I’d be a poor  _ anguisette _ , indeed, if that were to happen.” He kissed Arthur lightly and said, “but I appreciate the protective sentiment.”

“I love you,” Arthur said with the barest hint of a smile.

 

“I love you, too.” They kissed once more, a lingering, sweet kiss. “Good night, Arthur.” Then he popped the cork off the bottle and downed the draught in one swallow. It didn’t take long for its effects to work and soon Merlin felt himself slipping off to sleep, comforted by the Prince’s hand in his own.

 

~*~

 

The next couple days were ones of intense recovery for Merlin. True to his word, the least of his bruises healed quickly and his welts closed overnight. The darkest of his bruises took a few more days to clear but once they did it looked as if he had never met a cane or crop in his whole life. The day after his debut  _ assignation _ , Trevalion sent him his first patron gift; a purse of twenty shillings. 

 

“Well, I must say, this will make an excellent start to your marque,” Cecile told him, counting out the coins. Together, they decided on what to do with his newfound wealth. An offering to the gods would be made, of course, and then they would search for a marquist to begin drafting his marque. 

 

“Have you had any thoughts on what you would like it to be,” Cecile asked him while they shared a midday meal.

 

“I’d like something with flowers.” Then he thought of the dragon. “Kushiel’s dragon should be there, too.”

 

“I think that’s a fine idea. And it’s customary to incorporate your family and mentor into the marque, independent as you are. We’ll see what the marquist comes up with. I’m no artist, myself, or else I’d have more input.”

 

It took a week for Merlin’s skin to recover fully from Trevalion’s attentions. He had kept himself well away from court, ensuring that rumors flew and curiosity in him raged. Arthur visited him every night, for a couple hours at least, and was much relieved that Merlin was healing quickly.  By the time he was ready to reappear in public he had received many invitations to come to call at various great houses and events. He had also received no small amount of offers for his second  _ assignation _ . While they sorted through the invitations and congratulations they also interviewed marquists who would be willing to receive Merlin’s commission. Knowing that they would be the first in many a year to marque an  _ anguisette _ , there were many applicants. He was overjoyed at the newfound success and felt truly thankful that he had a mentor such as Cecile to have promoted him so well. 

 

After many, many interviews, they settled on an artist named Robert Tielhard, a master Marquist from Caerleon. Not only was his work exquisite he had shared his many years of experience as a marquist as well as the story of having seen his father marque an  _ anguisette _ ages past. The man knew what Merlin was and how special the marque would have to be. He took the notes and suggestions from the two courtesans and assured them that he would design something as lovely and as stunning as Merlin was. 

 

His first day out, Merlin and his mentor took themselves to the local Kushiel temple. Together they made a hefty offering and lit the candles and said the prayers in thanks. He took his time in the temple, praying silently to his patron god. He thanked him for giving him strength and endurance, for guiding him on his path. Lastly, he sent up a plea for peace for Arthur. As he left the temple with Cecile at his side he felt lighter than ever before; a new man. 

 

Their second stop for the day was Master Tielhard’s shop where they would review the design for Merlin’s marque. 

 

It was a small but tidy shop; a front receiving area with drawings of Master Tielhard’s handiwork and a back room where the work was actually done was the whole of it. Cecile took charge of the situation, conferring with Master Tielhard, leaving Merlin to peruse the collection of art on the walls. He saw flowers of every kind in beautiful, vibrant color. Exotic fish and birds from lands unknown. Trees and mountain landscapes. But unsurprisingly, no dragons. Merlin didn’t fret about the vacancy in Master Tielhard’s showcase. The man himself had been gruff and matter-of-factly when he came to show his work to them but it was evident that the man was talented and knowledgeable. Whatever the he had come up with, Merlin knew he would be well pleased. 

 

After an hour or so of deliberating and editing over the design, Merlin was called to the back room to see the final draft. When he saw it he felt his eyes widen and his hands clasped over his mouth to contain his gasp of surprise. 

 

The design he was graced with made him tremble with aesthetic desire. The image that first drew the eye was a black dragon curling and climbing its way upward, head tilted and poised, ready to breathe fire. Deep red accented spots all along the scales of the dragon, breaking up the sea of black. Peeking out behind and interspersed around the dragon was a trail of flowers. Deep red roses, shockingly purple thistles and blue larkspurs, and gorgeous black dahlias. The trail ended with flourishes of black that flared out over where the swell of his behind would be. He’d be a whole garden when it was all finished.

 

It was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. 

 

He told Master Tielhard as much and he smiled, pleased that his work was appreciated. “I can have the pigments ready by tomorrow.”

 

“Sooner is better than later,” Cecile told him at once. She handed over the purse containing Trevalion’s patron gift. Master Tielhard counted it and said it would make a sufficient start. 

 

The next day, bright and early, Merlin and Cecile made their way back to Master Tielhard’s shop. Cecile left Merlin in the master’s capable hands and promised to collect him once he was finished. 

 

“Off with your shirt, boy,” Master Tielhard told him as he readied his needles. Merlin’s heart beat swiftly in his chest, the anticipation climbing inside him. Once he had laid upon the table he willed himself to be still as the marquist tinkered behind him. 

 

After long minutes of anticipation and without warning, Master Tielhard’s hand splayed across the skin of Merlin’s lower back and the press and drag of his needle pierced his skin. Merlin’s sharp intake of breath was one of shocked pleasure. The first sting quickly melted into one of heated gratification. He groaned softly at the stinging burn, unable to stop himself from indulging in a small shift of his hips to relieve the mounting pressure of a burgeoning erection. 

 

The sharp sting of a palm on his arse made him yelp. “Quit you’re wrigglin’,” Master Tielhard chastised. “Do you want it to come out wrong?”

 

“Sorry,” Merlin apologized and forced himself back into stillness. 

 

Tielhard snorted, muttering under his breath, “no wonder da always said you  _ anguisettes _ were a challenge.”

 

The process to fill out the dark black bands of the flourishes across the top of his buttocks took two hours and by the end of it Merlin was on edge and sweating. When it was all over he blew out a relieved breath, vibrating from the stimulation. Tielhard shouted for his apprentice to fetch Cecile, that his work for the day was done. He bandaged Merlin up and told him how to care for the tender, bleeding flesh. 

 

He left the shop high on the experience and couldn’t wait for more. Arm wound through Cecile’s as they walked back towards the palace, Merlin conveyed his eagerness for another  _ assignation.  _ Together, they discussed the options and Merlin felt himself fully embrace his new life. 

  
Pain was pleasure and he wanted more of it. 

**Author's Note:**

> I researched some flowers that might have been native to the region and what they would have been used for if used in a medical sense. Correct me if any of the information is wrong.


End file.
